. 


e 

1 


1 


'        ' 


O      M 
4}      ^ 

PL, 

0 

fi 


1 


-*vCS 


PUBLISHED  UNDER  THE  AUTHORITY  OP 

E.  P.  CHRISTY, 

.  4OTHOR  OP  "IUCY  LONG,"  "  TALLER    GALS,"   "OH,  MR.  COON,"  "LUO| 
NEAL*,"  "SNOW  DROP  ANN,"  "THE  NEGRO  GENERAL," 
"  FAREWELL  LADIES,"  &C.  &C.  &C.      I 

ORIGINATOR    OF    ETHIOPIAN     MINSTRELSY, 

AND  THE  FIRST  TO  HARMONIZE 

NEGRO    MELODIES, 

FISHER   &   BROTHER, 

No.  15  NORTH  SIXTH  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA; 

No.  74  CHATHAM  STREET,  NEW  YORK; 

No.  71  COURT  STREET,  BOSTON; 

62  BALTIMORE  ST.,  BALT. 


1854 


/»• 


(?&*,& 


a^ 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851,  \q 
FISHER  &  BROTHER, 

to  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 


ClpISTY'S 
PLANTATION  MELODIES, 


The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  publis 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &/ Co.,  New  York. 

Way  down  upon  tne  Swanee  ribber, 

Far,  far  away, 
Dere's  wha  my  heart  is  turning  ebber, 

Dere's  wha  de  old  folks  stay. 
All  up  and  down  de  whole  creation, 

Sadly  I  roam ; 
Still  longing  for  de  old  plantation, 

Ar>d  for  de  old  folks  at  home. 

CAorus.      All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary, 

Ebry  where  I  roam  ; 

Oh !  darkeys,  how  my  heart  grows  wearyt 
Far  from  de  old  folks  at  home. 

All  round  de  little  farm  I  wandered, 

When  I  was  young  5 
Den  many  happy  days  I  squandered, 

Many  de  songs  I  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  wid  my  brudder 

Happy  was  I ; 
Oh !  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mudder, 

Dere  let  me  live  and  die. 

All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary,  &c. 


8  *  CHRISTY'S 

*  •> ,        *          ...••,  kc*v    r 

One  little  hut  among  de^bushes, 

One.dat  I  love, 
Still  sadly  to  my  memory  rushes. 

No  matter  where  I  rove. 
When  will  I  see  de  bees  a  humming, 

All  round  de  comb! 
When  will  I  hear  de  banjo  tumming, 

Down  in  my  good  old  home  ? 

Chorus.     All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary,  &c. 


«  Oh !  Boys,  Carry  Me  'long."   "£~t> 

Ths  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  pi**^isbed 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh  !  carry  me  'long; 

Der's  no  more  trouble  for  me 
I's  guine  to  roam 
In  a  happy  home, 

Where  all  de  niggas  am  free. 
I've  worked  long  in  de  fields  — 

I've  handled  many  a  hoe  ; 
I'll  turn  my  eye, 
Before  I  die, 

And  see  de  sugar-cane  grow 

Chorus.     Oh!  boys,  carry  me  'longj 

Carry  me  till  I  die: 
Carry  me  down 
To  de  buryin'  groun'. 
Massa,  don't  you  cry. 

All  ober  de  land 

I've  wander'd  many  a  day, 


PLANTATION   MELODIES. 

To  blow  de  horn 
And  mind  de  corn, 

And  keep  de  possum  away. 
No  use  for  me  now  — 

So,  darkeys,  bury  me  low  : 
My  horn  is  dry, 
And  I  must  lie 

Wha  de  possum  nebber  can  go. 

Chorus.     Oh !  boys,  carry  me  'long,  &c. 

Farewell  to  de  boys, 

Wid  hearts  so  happy  and  light  5 
Dey  sing  a  song 
De  whole  day  long, 

And  dance  de  juba  at  night 
.  Farewell  to  de  fields 

Of  cotton,  'bacco,  and  all: 
I'se  guine  to  hoe 
In  a  bressed  row, 

Wha  de  corn  grows  mellow  and  talL 

Chorus.     Oh  !  boys,  carry  me  'long,  &c 

Farewell  to  de  hills, 

De  meadows  covered  wid  green, 
Old  brindle  boss 
And  de  old  grey  hoss  — 

All  beaten,  broken,  and  lean. 
Farewell  to  de  dog 

Dat  always  followed  me  round ; 
Old  Sancho'll  wail 
And  droop  his  tail, 

When  I  am  under  de  ground. 

Chorus.     Oh !  boys,  carry  me  'long,  &c. 


10  CHRISTY'S 


Nelly  Ely, 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Nelly  Ely!  Nelly  Ely!  bring  de  broom  along; 
Well  sweep  de  kitchen  clean,  my  dear,  and  hab  a 

little  song. 

Poke  de  wood,  my  lady  lub,  and  make  de  fire  burr,; 
And,  while  I  take  de  banjo  down,  just  gib  de  mush 
a  turn. 

Chorus. 

Heigh!  Nelly,  ho!  Nelly,  listen  lub  to  me; 
I'll  sing  for  you,  play  for  you,  a  dulcem  melody. 

Nelly  Ely  hab  a  voice  like  de  turtle-dove, 

I  hears  it  in  de  meadow  and  I  hears  it  in  de  grove  ; 

Nelly  Ely  hab  a  heart  warm  as  cup  of  tea, 

And  bigger  dan  de  sweet  potato  down  in  Tennessee 

Chorus.     Heigh  !  Nelly,  ho !  &c. 

Nelly  Ely  shuts  her  eye  when  she  goes  to  sleep. 
When  she  wakens  up  again  her  eye-balls  gin  to  peep  ; 
De  way  she  walks,  she  lifts  her  foot,  and  den  sho 

brings  it  down, 
And  when  it  lights  der's  music  dah  in  dat  part  ob 

de  town. 

Chorus.     Heigh  !  Nelly,  ho !  &c. 

Nelly  Ely!  Nelly  Ely!  nebber,  nebber  sigh 
Nebber  bring  de  tear-drop  to  de  corner  ob  youi  eye; 
^For  de  pie  is  made  ob  punkins,  and  de  mush  is  made 

ob  corn, 
And  der's  corn  and  punkins  plenty  lub,  a  lyhv  in  da 

barn. 

Chorus.     Heigh  !  Nelly,  ho !  &c. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  11 


Way  Down  in  Ca-i-ro. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh  !  ladies,  don't  you  blush,  when  I  come  out  to  play; 
I  only  mean   to   please  you   all,  and  den  I's  guine 
away. 

Chorus. 

I  hear  my  true  lub  weep,  I  hear  my  true  lub  sigh, 
Way  down  in  Ca-i-ro  dis  nigga's  guine  to  die. 

Sometimes  de  nigga's  life  is  sad,  sometimes  his  life 

is  gay  j 
When  de  work  don't  come  too  hard,  he's  singin1  all 

de  day. 

Chorus.     I  hear  my  true  lub  we-ep,  &c. 

Now  we  libs  on  de  fat  ob  de  land,  now  we  libs  on 

de  lean  ; 
When  we  hab  no  cake  to  bake,  we  sweep  de  kitchen 

clean. 

Chorus.     I  hear  my  true  lub  weep,  &c. 

Massa  bought  a  bran  new  coat  and  hung  it  on  do 

wall ; 
Dis  nigga's  guine  to  take  dat  coat,  and  wear  it  to  de 

ball. 

Chorus.     I  hear  my  true  lub  weep,  &o. 

All  de  ladies  in  de  land,  and  all  de  gemmen  too, 
Are  gone  to  hear  de  darkey  band  and  see  what  dey 
can  do. 

Chorus.     I  hear  my  true  lub  weep. 


12  CHRISTY'S 


Dolcy  Jones. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  fey 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh  !  ladies,  don't  you  wonder, 

When  I  again  appear : 
I've  just  been  ober  yonder, 

To  see  my  Dolcy  dear ; 
For  Dolcy  steps  so  lightly 

Among  de  bricks  and  stones, 
Her  eyes  dey  shine  .so  brightly, 

Oh!  dadda,  D'  D'  Dolcy  Jones t 

Chorus.     Bye,  bye,  my  darling ! 

Sleep  to  de  rattle  ob  de  bones 
Slumber  till  morning, 
My  lubly  Dolcy  Jones  I 

Oh  !  when  I  go  a-courting, 

I  ride  thro'  mud  and  rain; 
I  ieabe  de  old  hoss  snorting 

At  de  corner  ob  de  lane, 
I  find  my  Dolcy  weeping, 

And  charm  her  wid  de  bones 
Bye'n  bye  I  Ieabe  her  sleeping, 

Oh!  dadda,  D'  D'  Dolcy  Jones! 

Chorus.     Bye,  bye,  my  darling!  &c. 

I  went  up  town  dis  morning, 

To  sing  a  little  song ; 
Miss  Dolcy  sent  me  warning, 

To  bring  my  boots  along ; 
For  de  yard  is  paved  wid  cinder, 

And  de  house  is  built  ob  stones, 
And  a  head  is  at  de  window, 

Oh !  dadda,  D'  D?  Dolcy  Jones  I 

Chorus.     Bye,  bye,  my  darling!  &c. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  13 


Ring,  Ring  de  Banjo! 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  bjr 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York 

De  time  is  nebber  dreary 

If  the  darkey  nebber  groans ; 
De  ladies  nebber  weary 

Wid  de  rattle  ob  de  bones : 
Den  come  again,  Susanna, 

By  de  gas-light  ob  de  moon : 
We'll  turn  de  old  piano, 

When  de  banjo's  out  ob  tune. 

Chorus.     Ring,  ring  de  banjo ! 

I  like  dat  good  old  song ! 
Come  again,  my  true  lub, 
Oh!  wha  you  been  so  long? 

Oh !  nebber  count  de  bubbles 

While  dere's  water  in  de  spring-, 
De  darkey  hab  no  troubles 

While  he's  got  dis  song  to  sing 
De  beauties  ob  creation 

Will  nebber  lose  der  charm, 
While  I  roam  de  old  plantation 

Wid  my  true  lub  on  my  arm 

Chorus.     Ring,  ring  de  banjo,  Sec. 

Once  I  was  so  lucky, 

My  massa  set  me  free, 
I  went  to  old  Kentucky, 

To  see  what  I  could  see  • 
I  could  not  go  no  farder, 

I  turn  to  massa's  door, 
I  lub  him  all  de  harder, 

I'll  go  away  no  more. 

Chorus.     Ring,  ring  de  banjo,  &c. 
2 


14  CHRISTY'S 

Early  in  de  morning 

Ob  a  lubly  summer  day, 
My  massa  send  me  warning 

He'd  like  to  hear  me  play. 
On  de  banjo  tapping, 

I  come  wid  dulcem  strain ; 
Massa  fall  a  napping — 

He'll  nebber  wake  again. 

Chorus.     Ring,  ring  de  banjo,  &c. 

My  lub,  I'll  hab  to  leab  you 

While  de  ribber's  running  high; 
But  I  nebber  can  deceibe  you— 

So  don't  you  wipe  your  eye. 
I's  guine  to  make  some  money; 

But  I'll  come  anodder  day — 
I'll  come  again,  my  honey, 

If  I  hab  to  work  my  way. 

Chorus.     Ring,  ring  de  banjo,  &c. 


My  Brodder  Gum. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

White  folks,  I'll  sing  for  you, 
Nuffin  else  to  do ; 

Spend  my  time  a  pickin  on  de  banjo— 
Hay  !  Brodder  Gum. 

Chorus.     My  Brodder  Gum, 

My  Brodder  Gum  so  fair, 
All  de  yaller  galls  runnin  round, 
Try  to  get  a  lock  ob  his  hair. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES  16 

Hard  work  all  de  day,  . 
Hab  no  .lime  to  play; 

Berry  fine  time  a  diggin  in  de  cornfield- 
Hay !  Brodder  Gum. 

Chorus.     My  Brodder  Gum,  &c. 

Tudder  arternoon, 

I  thought  I  saw  de  moon : 
Saw  my  true  lub  comin  through  the  canebrako— « 

Hay !  Brodder  Gum. 

Chorus.     My  Brodder  Gum,  &c. 

Went,  one  berry  fine  day, 

To  ride  in  a  one-horse  sleigh ; 

Hollo'd  tx)  de  old  hoss  comin  through  de  toll-gate— 
Hay!  Brodder  Gum. 

Chorus.     My  Brodder  Gum,  &c. 


> 

Camptown  Races,  or  Gwine  to  Run  All  Night. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
F.  D.  Benteen,  Baltimore,  Md. 

De  Camptown  ladies  sing  dis  song  —  Doo-dah{  doo 

dah! 
De  Camptown  race-track  five  miles  long  —  Oh,  doo 

d  ah-day! 
I  come  down  dah  wid  my  hat  caved  in  —  Doo-dacv 

doo-dah ! 
I  go  back  home  wid  a  pocket  full  of  tin  —  Oh,  Joo* 

dah-day ! 

Chorus.     Gwinn  to  run  all  night ! 
Gw"   ^  to  run  all  day ! 


16  CHRISTY'S 

I'll  bet  my  money  on  de  bob-tail  nag— 
Somebo-dy  bet  on  de  bay. 
Bet  my  money  on  de  bob-tail  nag — 
Somebo-dy  bet  on  de  bay. 

De  long-tail  filly  and  de  big  black  boss  —  Doo-dah, 
doo-dah  ! 

Dey  fly  de  track,  and  dey  both  cut  across — Oh,  doo 
dah-day  ! 

De  blind  boss  sticken  in  a  big  mud-hole  —  Doo-dah, 
doo-dah ! 

Can't  touch  bottom  wid  a  ten-foot  pole  —  Oh,  doo 
dah-day  ! 

CAoru*.     Gwine  to  run  all  night !  &c. 

Old  muley  cow  come  on  to  de  track — Doo-dah,  doo 
dah! 

De  bob-tail  fling  her  ober  his  back  —  Oh,  doo-dah- 
day! 

Den  fly  along  like  a  rail-road  car  —  Doo-dah,  doo 
dah! 

Runnin'  a  race  wid  a  shootin'  star  —  Oh,  doo-dah- 
day! 

Clwrus.     Gwkie  to  run  all  night !  &c. 

See  dem  flyin  on  a  ten-mile  heat  —  Doo-dah,  doo 
dah! 

Round  de  race -track,  den  repeat  —  Oh,  doo-dah- 
day! 

I  win  my  money  on  de  bob-tail  nag  —  Doo-dah,  doo 
dah! 

I  keep  my  money  in  an  old  tow-bag  — Oh,  doo-dah- 
day! 

Chorus.     Gwine  to  run  all  night !  &c. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  17 

De  Days  when  I  was  Young. 

I'm  getting  old  and  feeble  now; 

Dis  hair  am  turnin  grey ; 

I  cannot  work,  as  once  I  did, 

Upon  each  sunny  day. 

De  corn  I  used  in  pride  to  hoe — 

I  planted  it  myself — 

Some  younger  nigga  now  must  raise, 

For  I'm  raid  on  de  shelf. 

Chorus.     Den  gadder  round  ye  darkey  crew— • 
'  The  tale  I  oft  have  sung 
I'll  sing  again — again  to  you, 
Ob  days  when  I  was  young. 

De  morn  ob  life  was  full  ob  joy ; 

I  climb'd  de  ole  gum-tree, 

Or  listen 'd  to  de  oft-told  tales, 

Beside  my  mudders  knee. 

I  chased  de  coon;  I  poled  de  raftj 

De  possum  was  my  prize — 

A  smile  den  wreathed  my  fader's  \ips, 

Dough  tears  war  in  his  eyes. 

Chorus.     Den  gadder  round,  &c. 

I  loved  a  color'd  gal,  and  she 

Was  bound  to  me  tro'  life; 

And  round  my  fire  were  gadder'd  soon 

My  children  and  my  wife. 

But  Def,  alas !  come  dar,  and  took 

De  ones  I  lub  de  best; 

And  leffno  tie  to  comfort  me, 

Or  calm  my  aching  breast. 

Chorus.     Den  gadder  round,  &c. 

2* 


18  CHRISTY'S 

Now  years  have  past — my  youth  am  gone  j 

My  eyes  are  bathed  in  tears, 

And  nuffin's  left  dis  nig  on  earth, 

But  memory  of  past  years. 

Old  massa  promised  me  to-day, 

Dat  when  I  fail'd,  and  died, 

He'd  lay  me,  wife,  and  little  ones, 

In  one  grave,  side  by  side. 

CJiorus.     Den  gadder  round,  ye  darkey  crew, 
De  tale  I  oft  have  sung  , 

No  more  will  meet  your  list'ning  ears, 
Of  days  when  I  was  young. 


Greeting  to  a  Merry  Key— Not  Jenny  Lind's. 

Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah ! 

Let's  sing,  to  a  merry  key, 

Of  the  banner  that  waves  aloft 

O'  er  the  home  of  the  brave  and  free. 

The  darkey  may  sing  at  his  work, 
Or  dance  at  de  close  ob  de  day ; 
Wid  de  fiddle  or  banjo  and  bones, 
Drive  every  sharp  sorrow  away. 
He  may  lay  in  de  shade  ob  de  trees, 
And  snooze,  and  be  dreamin  ob  bliss. 
Den  talk  not  ob  far  distant  lands, 
For  none  can  be  equal  to  dis. 

Chorus.     Hurrah,  &c. 

De  stars  dat  shine  ober  our  heads 
Are  transposed  to  our  banner  so  bright, 
And  diffuse  o'er  our  broad  happy  land 
Their  purest  and  steadiest  light ; 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  .     19 

And  under  their  influence  meet 
De  buckra  and  darkey  so  gay ; 
And  when  our  tunes  fall  on  your  ear». 
Your  care  is  all  driven  away. 

Chorus.     Hurrah,  &c. 

There  is  room  for  all  who  will  »come  j 
The  alien  can  here  rest  in  peace ; 
And  the  one  who  has  suffer'd  the  most, 
Will  find  all  his  sufferings  cease. 
And  talent  and  virtue  may  come, 
Borne  here  by  the  favouring  sails, 
And  listen,  as  oft  as  they  please, 
To  this  great  band  ob  dark  nightingale*. 

Chorus.     Hurrah,  &c. 


Old  Aunty  Brown. 

Old  aunty  Brown  is  feeble  now, 

Her  hair  is  thin  and  grey, 
It  wanders  o'er  her  wrinkled  brow, 

And  there  she  lets  it  lay ; 
She  cannot  knit,  she  cannot  read, 

Nor  dare  she  ever  sew, — 
Yet  she  could  do  them,  oh !  how  well, 

Some  fifty  years  ago. 

Her  husband,  he  is  dead  and  still; 

Yet  he  was  very  old  ; 
Before  he  died  he  made  his  will, 

And  left  her  all  his  gold. 
She  has  no  son  to  break  her  heart, 

Nor  daughter  vain  to  feed, 


20  CHRISTY7S 

Yet  one  by  one  her  days  depart, 
Unknown  to  care  or  need. 

The  paint  is  all  worn  off  the  chair 

That  she  has  had  so  long ; 
She  bought  it  at  an  orphan's  fair, 

When  she  was  young  and  strong. 
She  used  to  think  the  most  of  it,— 

That  good  old  chair  of  yore : 
In  it  she  sewed  —  in  it  she  knit, 

And  read  her  Bible  o'er. 


Medley  Song. 

As  a  sensitive  coon  lay  sleeping  one  day, 

The  sound  of  a  wood-cutter's  hatchet  he  heard  ; 
So  he  jumped  on  a  stump,  to  see  what  was  to  pay, 
And  thus  did  he  sing, — aye,  he  sung  like  a  bird,— • 
Woodman,  spare  that  tree ! 

Touch  not  a  single  bough, 
In  youth  it  sheltered  me, 
And  I  '11  stick  to  it  now. 

Hard  by,  in  a  pine,  sat  a  sober  old  owl, 

A  fanning  himself  by  the  cold  western  breezes  ; 
And  he  wore  on  his  features  a  horrible  scowl, 

As  he  sung  to  the  zephyrs  that  swept  through  the 

treeses : 

Blow  !  0  blow  !  ye  gentle  breezes, 
All  among  the  flowers  and  treezes, 
Till  you  give  my  blood  the  freezes. 

A  skunk  and  a  'possum  then  met, 

And    they   shook   hands    and  kissed,  and  most 
lovingly  clung, 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  21 

For  they'd  vowed  years  ago  that  they  ne'er  would 

forget 
One  another  through  life ;  so  they  struck  up  and 

sung  — 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  brought  to  mind  ? 

Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 

In  the  days  o'  auld  lang  syne  ? 

A  fox  leaped  out  of  a  thicket  and  played 

With  his  brush  for  awhile,  in  a  transport  of  glee  j 
Then  thoughtfully  walked  to  a  green  forest  glade, 
When  he   sat  himself  down,  and   most  sweetly 

sang  he  — 
Oft  in  the  stilly  night, 

Ere  slumber's  chains  have  bound  me, 
Fond  memory  brings  a  sight 
Of  nice  fat  geese  around  me. 

The  fox,  skunk  and  'possum,  the  owl  and  the  coon, 
In  concert  all  joined  to  the  tune  of  "  Mool  Brooks," 
The  stars  cried  "encore !"  and  the  bright  silver  moon 
Grew  brighter  and  brighter,  as  they  sung  without 

books  — 

We'll  not  go  home  till  morning, 
We'll  not  go  home  till  morning, 
We'll  not  go  home  till  morning, 
Till  daylight  doth  appear. 


De  last  ob  de  Cabbages. 

^is  de  last  ob  de  cabbages, 

Left  standin'  alone ; 
Every  bean-bush  and  'tater-vine 

Am  faded  and  gone. 


CHRISTY'S* 

Not  a  collard  is  standing 
Each  squash-vine  am  fell, 

Nor  reflect  her  soft  blushes, 
Nor  give  smell  for  smell ! 

I'll  not  leave  thee,  lone  cabbage. 

To  die  on  the  stem, 
Since  I've  eat  all  the  others, 

I'll  do  you  like  dem: 
So  kindly  I  pull  off 

The  leaves  from  the  stalk. 
Since  your  mates  ob  de  garden 

Am  now  stems,  white  like  chalk  I 

So  quick  may  I  follow, 

If  Dinah  should  die ! 
And  her  eyes  shut  forebber. 

How  dis  poor  darkey  'd  cryi 
When  banjos  am  broken, 

And  collards  all  gone, 
Oh  !  who  den  would  lib  in 

Dis  black  world  alone  ? 


Julius  from  Kentucky* 

Come  listen  to  me,  while  I  sing 

To  you  my  little  ditty, 
Of  what  this  darkey  did  "to  bring 

Himself  into  your  city. 
And  glad  am  I  now  to  appear, 

And  deem  the  'casion  lucky, 
For  'tis  not  often  that  you  hear 

This  Julius  from  Kentucky. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  23 

Choi  us.     Oh!  Kentucky — it  is  the  land  for  me, 
And  surely  I'll  go  there  again, 
When  colored  men  are  free. 

'Twas  there  I  used  the  hoe  and  spade 

To  raise  the  corn  and  beans, 
Bacon  and  'bacco  too  we  made, 

To  go  to  New  Orleans. 
And  master  took  me  to  the  boat, 

A  chance  to  me  so  lucky, 
For  on  the  river  all  must  tote 

Their  plunder  from  Kentucky. 

Chorus.     Oh  !  Kentucky,  &c. 

In  New  Orleans  they  shut  me  in, 

With  hundred  more  they  say, 
Some  black,  some  white,  some  large,  some  thin, 

To  sell  'em  all  next  day. 
I  climb  the  barrel — jump  the  gate, 

And  'scape  the  guard  so  lucky; 
I  go  from  there  to  New  York  State, 

And  master  to  Kentucky. 

Chorus.     Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

I'm  sorry  now  for  master's  loss, 

And  none  could  feel  it  greater, 
For  master  he  was  half  a  horse, 

And  half  an  alligator. 
And  now  I  join  the  Christy  band, 

The  first,  and  the  most  lucky 
Of  all  the  darkies  in  the  land, 

From  Orleans  or  Kentucky. 

-Jhorus.     Oh !  Kentucky,  &c. 


24  CHRISTY'S 

Rosa  Bell. 

Darkies,  listen  while  I  tell,  Ou,  &c, 
Of  my  love  for  Rosa  Bell,  Ou,  &c. 

Of  dat  lubly  yaller  gal, 

How  dem  niggers  lubb'd  her  all, 

But  on  me  her  'fections  fell — 

My  dearest  Rosa  Bell. 

Chorus      Darkies,  &c. 

5iie  said  she  lubb'd  me  dear  as  life,  Ou,  &c. 

•'She  promised  she  would  be  roy  wife,  Ou,  &s, 
But  massa  he  did  send  me  far — 
He  said  that  we  should  lub  no  more  j 
And,  Oh !  he  did  my  Rosa  sell — 
My  poor  Rosa  Bell. 

Cl  torus.     Darkies,  &c. 

She  pined  for  many  a  dreary  day,  Ou,  &c. 
And  massa  then  said  I  might  stay,  Ou,  &c. 

But  her  heart  was  broke — they  could  not  eavs 

My  Rosa  from  the  cold,  cold  grave ; 

And  soon  the  solemn  sounding  knell 

Was  tolling  for  poor  Bell. 

Chorus.     Darkies,  &c. 


Parody  — "On  Old  Long  Island's  Sea-gin 
Shore." 

Down  in  Wargmny's  lubly  State, 
Whar  fust  dis  child  did  see  de  sun, 

Dar  libs  a  gal  wid  beauty  great— 
0,  ehe's  de  charm  ob  ebery  one  I 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  25 

Her  eyes  shine  like  de  new  tin-pan ; 

Her  voice  am  like  de  bugle-horn, 
And  louder  than  a  full  brass-ban'-— 

She  wakes  de  sun  up  ebery  morn ! 

Hoo,  hoo,  hoo,  hoo,  hoo-ah,  hoo-ah ! 

Chorus.     Down  in  Warginny's  lubly  State, 

Whar  fust  dis  child  did  see  de  sun, 
Dar  libs  a  gal  wid  beauty  great- 
She  takes  de  shine  from  ebery  one ! 

And  when  her  sweet  mouf  opens  wide 

She  neber  cuts  de  buckwheat  cake, 
But  lets  it  in  de  openin  slide, 

And  drowns  it  in  a  'lasses  lake ! 
And  den  she  has  a  heart  to  feel — 

Dese  eyes  hab  often  seed  her  cry ; 
She  lubs  a  sentimental  heel — 

When  dis  child  danced  she'd  always  sigh  I 
Hoo,  hoo,  &c. 

Chorus.     Down  in  Warginny's,  &c 

Her  name  am  Dinah- Anna  Crow; 

She  blubbered  when  I  run  from  horn? 
I've  writ  to  her,  to  let  her  know 

Dat  I  am  here—she  soon  will  come ! 
Yah !  den  how  happy  I  shall  be 

When  folded  in  her  lubly  arms ! 
No  coloured  person  dat  I  see 

Will  eber  own  sich  shinin  charms  I 
Hoo,  hoo,  &c. 

Chorus.     Down  in  Warginny's,  &c. 


26 


CHRISTY'S 


Jane  Monroe. 


The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Win.  Hall  &  Son,  New  York. 

When  I  lived  in  Louisiana,  not  many  years  ago, 

I  fell  in  lub  wid  a  charming  gal  —  her  naiv.e  was 

Jane  Monroe  ; 
Her  eyes  were  bright  as  diamonds*  her  teeth  were 

white  as  snow — 
De    prettiest  gal   I   ever    saw  was  charming  Jane 

Monroe. 

Chorus.     But  now  she  is  far,  far  away, 

And  I  hear  from  her  ebery  day: 

But  if  she  was  here, 

She'd  have  nothing  to  fear, 

For  the  darkies  all  love  her  so  gay. 

The  darkey  traders  came  one  day  and  buy  my  gal 

from  me, 
And  left  me  all  alone  to  mourn  beneath  the  cypress 

tree  ; 
It  fill'd  my  heart  wid  grief  and  pain  to  think  she 

had  to  go ; 
Still  I  live  in  hopes  to  meet  again  my  charming  Jane 

Monroe. 

Chorus.     But  now  she  is  far,  far  away,  &c. 


Nelly  was  a  Lady. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Fund  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Down  on  de  Mississippi  floating, 
Long  time  I  trabble  on  de  way 

All  night  de  cotton-wood  a  toting, 
Sing  for  my  true  lub  all  de  day. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES  27 

Chorus  and  Repeat.     Nelly  was  a  lady, 

Last  night  she  died  ; 
Toll  de  bell  for  lubly  Nell, 
My  dark  Virgirmy  bride. 

Now  I'm  unhappy  and  I'm  weeping, 
Can't  tote  de  cotton- wood  no  more; 

Last  night,  while  Nelly  was  a  sleeping, 
Death  came  a  knocking  at  de  door. 

Chorus  and  Repeat.     Nelly  was  a  lady,  &c. 

When  I  saw  my  Nelly  in  de  morning 
Smile  till  she  opened  up  her  eyes. 
Seem'd  like  de  light  ob  day  a  dawning, 
Jist  'fore  de  sun  begin  to  rise. 

Chorus  and  Repeat.     Nelly  was  a  lady,  &c. 

Close  by  de  margin  ob  de  water, 

Whar  de  lone  weeping  willow  grows, 

Dar  lib'd  Virginny's  lubly  daughter, 
Dar  she  in  death  may  find  repose. 

Chorus  and  Repeat.     Nelly  was  a  lady,  &c. 


Down  in  de  meadow  'mong  de  clober> 
Walk  wid  my  Nelly  by  my  side ; 

Now  all  dem  happy  days  am  ober,— 
Farewell,  my  dark  Virginny  bride. 

Chorus  and  Repeat.     Nelly  was  a  lady,  &c. 


28 


Julius'  Bride. 


The  music,  witn  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

When  I  liv'd  'way  down  in  ole  Virginny, 
I  bought  a  colored  gal  for  a  guinea ; 
By  de  rollin'  ob  her  eye,  if  you  chance  to  pass  her  by, 
It  would  cause  your  heart  to  palpitate — gib  up  de 
ghost — an'  die  ! 

Ch.   Den  I  warn  all  you  darkies  not  to  lub  her  , 
If  you  do,  she  will  cause  you  to  blub-ber ! 
So  git  out  ob  de  way,  an'  remember  what  I  say — 
Ise  gwan  to  marry  her  myself  some  very  fine  day! 

But  now  she's  gwan  for  to  leave  me ! — 
If  she  does,  she  will  cruelly  deceibe  me! — 

But  to  win  her  I  will  try,  by  de  winkin'  ob  de  eye ; 

If  she  don't  cons-ent  to  marry,  I  will  go  away  an'  cry  ! 
But  I  know  dat  she  will  not  deceibe  me, 
An'  she  is  not  a  goin'  for  to  leabe  me ; 

So  to  hab  a  little  fun,  for  de  banjo  I  will  run, 

An'  Hi  play  dat  merry  tune -—"  Jenny,    get  your 
hoe-cake  done  !" 

Ch.    Den  I  warn  all  you  darkies,  &c. 

One  night  when  de  moon  war  a  beaming 

I  lay  fast  asleep  a  drearnin' 
Dat  de  sun  was  shinin'  bright  in  de  middle  ob  do 

night, 
An'  de  darkies  had  collected  for  to  hab  a  little  fight. 

When  I  'woke,  O,  de  banjo  was  s'nmdin  ! 

De  bones  thro*  de  air  was  a  boundin'l       , 
But  how  pleasant  it  did  seem !  I  was  married — in  q 

dream — 
In  de  floatin'  scow  Virginia,  on  de  Mississippi  stream ! 

Ch.   Den  I  warn  all  you  darkies,  &c. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  29 


Ginger's  Wedding. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Jaques  &  Brother,  New  York 

Oh,  pleasant  de  song  dat  I  sing, 

And  well  1  remember  de  day. 
When  de  little  church  bells  dey  did  ring, 
And  de  darkies  were  done  making  hay; 
When  de  birds  were  at  rest, 
And  lay  snug  in  their  nest, 
And  de  clouds  dey  look'd  pleasant  and  clear  ; 

Sweet  Rosa  was  happy  indeed, 
When  to  church  she  and  Ginger  did  steer. 

Chorus.     When  de  birds  were  at  rest,  &c. 

Dey  were  going  to  be  married  dat  day, 
And  de  darkies  were  all  to  be  dere ; 
(In  de  little  log  church  by  de  way,) 
Wid  de  colored  gals  looking  so  fair. 
Den  lock'd  arm  in  arm, 
For  fear  of  some  harm, 
Dis -couple  went  skipping  along, 

And  Rosa  felt  happy  dat  day, 
As  she  sang  dat  sweet  nightingale  song. 

Chorus.     Den  lock'd  arm.  in  arm,  &c. 

Shall  I  eber  forget  it  indeed, 

How  happy  de  darkies  did  look, 
When  de  parson  he  den  did  proceed, 
By  perusing  de  highmonial  book. 
Den  he  asked  lubly  Rosa 
If  wedded  she'd  be, 
And  take  Ginger  for  better  or  wuss ; 

Wid  a  tear  and  a  sigh  she  said,  "  Yes  jw 
Den  Ginger  gib  Rosa  a  buss ! 

Chorus.     Den  he  asked,  &c. 


Mary  Blane. 

NEW    VERSION. 

Oh !  once  I  loved  a  yellow  ga_, 

1  loved  her  as  my  life ; 
She  came  from  old  Virginia, 

And  I  took  her  for  my  wife . 
We  happy  lived  together, 

She  never  caused  me  pain ; 
But  on  one  cold  and  stormy  night 

I  lost  my  Mary  Blane. 

Chorus.      Farewell !  farewell !  poor  Mary  Blane ; 
One  faithful  heart  still  thinks  of  you. 
Farewell !  farewell !  poor  Mary  Blane, 
Tho'  we  ne'er  shall  meet  again. 

I've  nothing  left  to  live  for  now, 

I'm  weary  of  my  life  ; 
Then  take  and  lay  me  gently  by 

My  poor  heart-broken  wife. 
I  wander  sadly  through  the  world, 

But  find  my  sorrow's  vain; 
These  tears  can  never  bring  to  me 

My  darling  Mary  Blane. 

Chorus.     Farewell !  farewell !  poor  Mary  Blane,  &c. 

I  buried  her  at  dead  of  night, 

'Neath  the  persimmon  tree  ; 
De  snow  was  falling  thick  and  white 

On  her  dear  grave  and  me, 
And  often  since  in  dreams  I  see 

Her  well-known  form  again, 
As  when  I  laid  her  in  de  grave, 

And  wept  o'er  Mary  Biane. 

Chorus.     Farewell!  farewell!  poor  Mary  Diane, &c 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  31 

Then  raise  no  tomb-stone  on  de  p]ace, 

But  lay  me  by  her  side ; 
The  best,  the  kindest  of  her  race — 

My  faithful,  constant  bride. 
I'm  ready  now  to  leave  this  life, 

To  join  her  once  again, 
Beneath  the  old  persimmon  tree, 

Where  sleeps  my  Mary  Blane, 

Chorus      Farewell !  farewell !  poor  Mary  Blane,  && 


Witching  Dinah  Crow. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

Now,  darkies,  I  will  tell  you 

Ob  a  most  unlucky  fate, 
Dat  happen'd  to  a  color'd  gal 

From  ole  Kentucky  State  : 
De  subject  of  rny  story 

Is  about  one  Dinah  Crow, 
Who  was  drown'd,  and  den  found  dead, 

In  de  ribber  0-hi-o  ! 

Chorus.      Oh,  witching  Dinah  Crow  ! 
Oh,  witching  Dinah  Crow  ! 
Who  was  drown'd,  and  den  found  dead, 
In  de  ribber  O-hi-o  ! 


On  a  bery  cloudy  morning, 

When  the  wind  war  radder  higl, 
Oh,  stormy  war  de  wedder, 

And  rainy  war  de  sky  ! 


32  CHRISTY7S 

She  got  aboard  de  horse-boat, 

To  cross  de  0-hi-o, 
But  fell  into  de  ribber  I— 
Poor,  unlucky  Dinah  Crow ! 

Chorus.     Oh,  witching  Dinah  Crow,  &c% 

De  darkies  all  did  mourn  her  loss  — 

"  They'd  neber  see  her  more  !" 
They  got  a  cotton  handkerchief 

Dat  floated  on  de  shore ! 
They  held  an  inquest  on  the  body, 

About  the  poor  gal's  death : 
The  verdict  of  the  jury  war, 

She  drown'd  — for  want  of  breath! 

Chorus.     Oh,  witching  Dinah  Crow,  &o. 


Nancy  Tease. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Win.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

How  is  you  white  folks,  one  and  all  ? 

I'm  glad  to  see  you  well ; 
I've  come  to  live  wid  you  dis  fall  — 

.It  is  de  truth  I  tell. 
Wid  heart  and  soul  I'll  try  to  please  — 

It  is  my  only  joy  ; 
I'll  tell  you  of  one  Nancy  Tease — 

She  call'd  me  handsome  boy. 

Chorus       Oh,  Nancy!  oh,  Nancy! 

She  was  my  soul's  delight! 
Her  voice  was  like  de  whip-poor-will  — 
Her  eyes  dey  sparkled  bright  1 


PLANTATION   MELODIES. 

Miss  Nancy  she  was  berry  gay, 

And  sprightly  as  de  'coon ; 
She  kotch  a  weasel  fast  asleep, 

A  ridin  on  de  moon  ! 
And  when  de  day  war  drawin  near, 

De  stars  did  go  to  rest ; 
She  sleep  awake  all  night  wid  fear— • 

Her  mind  war  decompress'd ! 

Chorus.     Oh,  Nancy.  &e 

I  hab  a  mind  to  circulate 

A  wedding  dar  will  be; 
And  if  I  do,  I  speculate, 

My  Nancy  I  shall  see : 
And  when  I  marry  Nancy  Tease, 

IM1  introduce  you  all ; 
We'll  kick  up  such  a  merry  spree, 

And  gib  a  fancy  ball ! 

Chorus.     Oh,  Nancy,  &c. 


PARODY   ON 

The  Phantom  Chorus. 

(From  the  Opera  of  "  La  Sonnambula") 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
C.  Holt,  Jr.,  New  York. 

Look  yar,  sir !     As  slowly  comes  de  night, 

Den  dese  poor  darkies  am  almost  freezed  wid  fright 

'Tis  true,  indeed,  sar  —  'tis  true,  indeed,  sar  ! 

'Tis  de  debil,  or  some  buggaboo,  dat  goes  about  a' 

night ! 
What's  dat,  sir?     Look  yar !     Hold  yer  jaw!     Just 

listen ! 

Spoken.     Go  ahead,  den ! 


34  CHRISTY'S 

When  work  am  done,  sar,  den  home  we  run,  sar, 
For  fear  dis  debil  might  be  uncibil ! 
We  all  shake  so,  sar,  from  top  to  toe,  sar, 
Oh,  we  fear  he'll  come  wid   horns  and   tail  —  wid 
horns  an'  tail ! 

From  ole  Virginny  each  piccaninny,  wid  very  long 

face  on,  wid  prespiration, 

Dar  wool  am  dripping,  as  home  dar  skipping — 
Afraid  to  poke  dar  noses  in  de  dark,  sar.     I'll  go  bail, 
'Tis  some  old  cow,  sar,  or  big  bow-wow,  sar! 
It  arn't  de  debil,  for  he's  below  — 
For  Ginger  seen  him,  anr  dat  we  know ! 
Yes,  dat  I'll  swear! 

Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear  me!  I  tink  he's  near  me, 
Whene'er. de  dog  bark,  an'  'tis  at  all  dark! 
Our  teeth  dey  chatter  wid  such  a  clatter, 
Dat  you'd   tink    five    pair   of  castanets   was   being 

play'd! 

Wid  nose  on  eround,  sar,  a  snuffing  round,  sar, 
Our  ole  dog  Towler  begins  to  howl,  sar;  • 
'Tis  den  wid  fright,  sar,  we  all  turn  white,  sar, 
You'd  tink  each  darkey  in  his  shroud  had  just  been 

laid! 

Oh,  dear  me  !  dat's  him,  I  know  ! 
Oh,  gracious,  he's  coming  now ! 


Fi  -  Hi  -  Hi  ! 

THE  BLACK  SHAKER'S  SONG. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Bress  dat  lubly  yaller  gal 

De  white  folks  call  Miss  Dinah ; 

Oh !  pity  me,  ye  Shakers  all, 

And  tell  me  where  I'll  find  herj 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  35 

She's  gone  away  to  Leb'non  State, 
To  hoe  de  corn  and  bake  de  cako , 
Massa  says  it  is  too  late, 
Let  her  go  to  Leb'non  State. 

Chortts.     Fi,  hi,  hi,  lum  I  dum  diddle  lum, 
Fi,  hi,  hi,  ri  tiddle  lum  i  dum, 
Fi,  hi,  hi. 

And  since  she's  gone  and  left  me, 

I  don't  know  what  I'll  do  ; 
I'll  buy  a  rope  and  drown  myself: 

Dat  make  her  mad,  I  know. 
She's  gone  away  to  Leb'non  State, 
To  hoe  de  corn  and  bake  de  cake ; 
And  massa  says  it  is  too  late : 
Let  her  go  to  Leb'non  State. 

Chorus.     Fi,  hi,  hi,  &c. 


Katy  Dean. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  By 
Win.  Hall  &.  Son,  New  York. 

I'm  deep  in  lub  wid  a  cdlor'd  gal  dat  come  froiK. 

Tennessee, 
I  dont  know,  but  I  guess   she   lubs   a  color'd   man 

like  me  ; 
De  fust  time  dat  I  saw  her  she  was  walking  on  do 

green, 
A  darkie  dat  was  wid  me  says,  "Dar  goes  Miss  Katy 

Dean." 

Vhorus.  Oh  !  Katy,  oh  !  Katy,  I  bid  you  now  farewell, 
If  ever  we  should  meet  again,  a  story  I  wil/ 
tell.  (Repeat.) 


36  CHRISTY'S 

Her  eyes  beam'd  bright  as  gold-dust,  and  her  teeth 

as  white  as  snow, 
And  when  she  rais'd  her  voice  to  sing  'twas  sweeter 

than  de  crow  j 
And  in  her  lemonading  waltz  dat  lubly  form  wai 

seen, 
My  fascinating  heart  did  burn  for  pretty  Katy  Bean. 

Chorus     Oh  1  Katy,  oh !  Katy,  &c. 


Miss  Katy's  in  Virginia  now,  as  happy  as  can  be, 
But  bery  soon  she's  coming  back  to  lib  in  Tennessee ; 
And  when  she  does  come  back  again  we'll  go  upon 

de  green, 
And  you  will  see  a  wedding  wid  myself  and  Katy 

Dean. 

Chorus.     Oh !  Katy,  oh  !  Katy,  &c. 


tlncle  Ned.  ~ 

The  mriaic,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  bjr 
W.  C.  Peters,  Louisville  and  Cincinnati. 

I  once  knew  a  darkey,  and  his  name  was  Uncle  N«id, 

0,  he  died  long  ago, — long  ago ; 
He  had  no  wool  on  the  top  of  his  head, 

The  place  whar  de  wool  ought  to  grow. 

Chords.      Lay  down  the  shovel  and  the  hoe  ; 
Hang  up  the  fiddle  and  the  bow ; 
Fo'  no  more  work  for  poor  old  Ned, 
He's  gone  where  the  good  darkies  go. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  37 

His  fingers  were  long  like  the  cane  in  the  "brake, 

And  he  had  no  eyes  for  to  see ; 
He  had  no  teeth  for  to  eat  de  hoe-cake, 

So  he  had  to  let  the  hoe-cake  be. 

Chorus.     Then  lay  down,  &c. 

One  cold  frosty  morning  old  Ned  died, 

Oh,  the  tears  down  massa's  face  run  like  rain  j 

For  he  knew  when  Ned  was  laid  in  the  ground, 
He'd  neber  see  his  like  again. 

Chorus.     Then  lay  down,  &c. 


Old  Uncle  Edward. 

There  formerly  might  have  been  seen  an  aged  colored 

individual., 

Whose  cognomen  was  uncle  Edward ; 
He  departed  this  life  some  time  since,  some  time 

since ; 
And  he  had  no  capillary  substance  on  the  summit  of 

his  cranium, 
On  the  place  designed  by  nature  for  the  capillary  to 

vegetate. 

Chorus. 

Then  lay  down  the  agricultural  implements, 
Allow  the  violin  and  the  bow  to  be  pendent  on  the 

wall, — 

For  there  is  no  more  physical  energy  to  be  displayed 
By  indigent  aged  Edward  ; 
For  he  has  departed  to  the  abode  designated  by  a 

kind  Providence  for  all  pious,  humane,  and 

benevolent  colored  individuals. 

4 


38  CHRISTY'S 

Uncle  Edward  had  digits  equal  in  longitude  to  the 
Bamboo  foi  ma ti on  which  springs  so  spontaneously  on 

the  bank  of  the  southern  Mississippi, 
And  he  had  no  oculars  with  which  to  observe 
The  beauties  of  nature  ; 

And  h©  had  no  dental  formations  with  which  to 
Masticate  the  Indian  meal  cake, 
Consequently  he  was  forced  to  permit  the 
Jndian  meal  cake  to  pass  by  with  impunity. 

Chorus.     Then  lay  down,  &c. 

When  uncle  Ned  relinquished  his  hold  on  vitality, 

His  master  was  exceedingly  griev  d, 

And  the  lachrymal  poured  down  his  cheeks  similar 

to  the  rain  from  heaven, 
For  he  knew  that  the  old  man  was  laid  beneatU 

terra  firma,  terra  firma. 
He  would  never  have  the  pleasure  of  beholding  the 

physiognomy  of  the  aged  Edward  any  more. 

Chorus.     Then  lay  down,  &c. 


Gone  to  Alabama. 

Che  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Jaques  &.  Brother,  New  York. 

Lor'  bless  dat  lubly  yaller  gal, 

De  white  folks  call  her  Diuah  ; 
She's  gone  and  left  me, 

And  I  don't  know  where  to  find  her. 
Lor'  bless  dat  lubly  yaller  gal, 

De  white  folks  call  her  Dinah; 
Take  pity  on  me,  darkies  all, 

And  tell  me  where  to  find  her. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  39 

Id  voicis.     She's  gone,  and  she's  loft  you, 

For  fear  dat  you'd  harm  her, 
She's  gone  away  forebber, 

For  she's  gone, — (ls£  voice,)  Wharf 

Chorus.     To  Alabama. 

Now  she's  gone  and  she's  left  you, 
Because  you  war  brack  hearted  ; 
You  nebber  more  will  see  her, 
For  she's  gone, — Whar  ? 
To  Alabama. 

Her  eyes,  dey  shine  like  diamonds 

Her  lips  are  red  as  coral ; 
She  used  to  live  on  mush  and  milk, 

We  nebber  had  a  quarrel ; 
Her  voice  was  like  de  jay  bird, 

'Twas  sweet  as  any  honey j 
At  dancing  she  could  beat  dem  all, 

For  any  kind  of  money. 
%d  voice.     But  she's  gone,  and  she's  left  yon* 

She  had  n't  time  to  tell  you ; 
She  went  wid  her  brudder  Samuel, 
But  she's  gone, — (1st  t*Jce,)  Wharf 

Chorus.     To  Alabama. 

Now  she's  gone,  &c. 

If  ebber  I  meet  dat  gal  again, 

Der's  one  ting  I  will  tell  he>', 
She  mus'nt  fool  her  time  wid     10. 

But  get  some  udder  feller  : 
For  I  am  one  ob  dat  ere  sort, 

Best  kind  ob  lookin'  nigger 
Plenty  gals  down  in  de  south 

Admire  dis  darkey's  figure 

Chortu     Now  she's  gone,  &c. 


40  CHRISTY'S 

Emma  Snow. 

Tbe  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment  published 
Win.  Hall  &  Son,  New  York 

Way  down  in  Alabama, 

Not  very  long  ago, 
I  knew  a  yellow  charmer, 

And  her  name  was  Emma  Snow  j 
Her  eyes  was  bright  as  diamonds, 

And  her  teeth  was  perly  wjjite, 
Dey  glisned  in  de  darkness, 

As  the  stars  do  in  the  night,. 

Chorus.     But  that  happy  time  is  over, 
I've  only  grief  and  pain  j 
For  I  shall  never,  never  see 
My  Emma  dear  again. 

We  used  to  go  out  early 

To  hoe  de  sugar  cane, 
The  time  did  pass  so  cherily 

When  Emma  Snow  was  seen; 
She  trabled  wid  us  daily, 

And  oft  would  tell  her  rp.rr.e ; 
And  we  danced  and  sung  so  gaily 

To  the  banjo's  sweetest  strain. 

Chorus.     But  that  happy  time  is  over,  &c. 

Now  that  happy  time  hath  sorrow, 

The  day  is  turn'd  to  night; 
I  lost  my  dearest  Emma 

By  the  poison  adder's  bite. 
We  miss'd  her  in  de  evening, 

And  we  hunted  far  and  wide, 
And  we  found  her  in  the  meadows, 

Whar  she  sicken'd  and  she  died. 

Chorus.     But  that  happy  time  is  over,  &c. 


PLANTATION  ME^DIES.  41 


Gum  Tree  Canoe. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  bj 
G.  P  Reed  t  Co.,  Boston. 

On  Tombigbee  river,  so  bright,  I  was  born, 
In  a  hut  made  ob  husks  ob  de  tall  yaller  cornj 
An'  dar  I  first  met  wid  my  Jula  so  true, 
An'  I  row'd  her  about  in  my  Gum-tree  canoe. 

Chorus.     Singing  row  away,  row, 
O'er  de  waters  so  blue, 
Like  a  feather  we'll  float, 
In  my  Gum-tree  canoe. 

All  de  day  in  de  field  de  soft  cotton  I  hoe, 

I  think  of  my  Jula,  an'  sing  as  I  go  j 

Oh,  I  catch  her  a  bird  wid  a  wing  ob  true  blue, 

An'  at  night  sail  her  round  in  my  Gum-tree  canoe. 

Chorus.     Singing  row  away,  row,  &c. 

Wid  my  hands  on  de  banjo,  and  toe  on  de  oar? 
I  sing  to  de  sound  ob  de  riber's  soft  roar; 
While  de  stars  dey  look  down  on  my  Jula  so  true, 
An*  dance  in  her  eye  in  my  Gum-tree  canoe. 

Chorus.     Singing  row  away,  row,  &c. 

it  one  night  de  stream  bore  us  so  far  awajp$%> 
>at  we  couldn't  cum  back,  so  we  thought  we'd  jig  staf, 
*h,  we  spied  a  tall  ship  wid  a  flag  ob  true  blue, 
:\n'  it  took  us  in  tow  wid  my  Gum-tree  canoe. 

Chorus.     Singing  row  away,  row,  &c. 


42 


The  Vii giiifa  Rose-Bud ;  or,  The  Lost  Child. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published- by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

I  had  a  bud, — 'twas  in  my  garden  growing — 

A  slip  I  nourished  with  a  father's  care ; 
When  other  darkies  round  that  plant  were  hoeing. 

A  fragrant  zephyr  seemed  to  fill  the  air. 
Oh !  how  I've  watched  that  little  plant  while  creeping 

She,  like  her  mother,  all  was  blithe  and  gay — 
One  night  I  left  her  on  her  pallet  sleeping, 

And  in  the  morning  she  was  stole  away. 
One  night  I  left  her  on  her  pallet  sleeping, 

And  in  the  morning  she  was  stole  away. 

CJiorus  C  They  stole — they  stole — they  stole  my  child 
Repeat.  (_          away ! 

~  ,     f"  OhJ  hear  me  row  calling, — hear  me,  I  pray, 
(_  My  heart,  my  heart  is  breaking 
For  my  child—for  my  child  they've  stole  away 

Solo — for  Tyrolean  echo. 

Full  Chorus  {  I  hear  the  hoofs  upon  the  hill, 
and  Repeat.  >  Their  footsteps  growing  fainter  still. 
They  stole — they  stole — they  stole  my  child  away 
They  stole — they  stole — they  stole  rny  child  away  . 


And  then  this  heart,  it  withered,  and  dejected 

Wandered  through  the  fields,  but  all  in  vairil 
And  every  plant  on  me  a  shade  reflected, 

My  tears  they  flowed  upon  them  like  the  rain 
The  thunder-storm  that  breaks  in  horror  o'er  us, 

Throws  back  the  rainbow's  bright  refulgent  rays- 
Though  dark  the  night  that  now  is  hovering  o'er  us, 

Bringing  back  the  light  of  other  days. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  43 

* 

Though  dark  the  night  that  now  is  hovering  o'er  us, 
Bringing  back  the  light  of  other  days. 

Chorus  J  They  stole — they  stole — they  stole  my  child 
Repeat.  }  away ! 

~  ,      (  Oh  !  hear  me  now  calling, — hear  me,  I  pray, 
t  My  heart,  my  heart  is  breaking 
For  my  child — for  my  child  they've  stole  away. 

Solo — for  Tyrolean  echo. 

Full  Chorus  (  I  hear  the  hoofs  upon  the  hill, 

md  Repeat.  (  Their  footsteps  growing  fainter  still. 

They  stole — they  stole — they  stole  my  child  away! 

They  stole— they  stole — they  stole  my  child  away  ! 


Emma  Dale. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

When  I  was  young,  there  used  to  dwell, 

In  the  Mississippi  vale, 
The  prettiest  gal  I  eber  saw — 

Her  name  was  Emma  Dale. 

Chorus.     Oh,  Emma  dear,  Oh,  Emma  Dale, 

From  the  Mississippi  vale, 
Search  all  the  wide  world  over 
There's  none  like  Emma  Dale. 

The  moon  did  shine,  the  stars  were  bright, 

The  night  when  first  we  met, 
De  prettiest  gal  I  eber  saw,  * 

I  neber  will  forget. 

Ehorus.     Oh,  Emma  dear,  &c. 


44  CHRISTY'S 

* 

1  felt  her  hand  with  my  own, 

The  tear  was  in  her  eye ; 
I  asked  her  would  she  marry  me, 
Her  answer  was  a  sigh. 

Chorus.     Oh,  Emma  dear,  &c. 


Stop  dat  Knocking. 

AN    ORIGINAL    BURLESQUE. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
G.  P.  Reed  &  Co.,  Boston. 

I  once  did  love  a  yaller  gal,  whose  name  was  Susy 

Brown, 
She  came  from  Alabama,  an-d  was  the  fairest  in  the 

town ; 

Her  eyes  so  bright  that  they  shine  at  night, 
When  the  moon  has  gone  away  ; 
She  used  to  call  this  nigga  up, 
Just  afore  the  broke  of  day, 
With  a  "  Who  dat,  who  dat,  who  dat,  who  dat  knock 

ing  at  the  door." 

Spoken.     "  Am  dat  you  Sam,  am  dat  you,  Sam  ; 

"  Why,  Sam,  ain't  you  guine  to  luff  me  in  ?" 

"No,  you'd  better  stop  dat  knockin'  at  the 

door," — "let  me  in," 
"  Stop  dat  knockin'  "-— "  let  me  in," 
"Stop  dat  knockin'" — "let  me  in," 
"  Stop  dat  knockin'  " — "  let  me  in," 

"  Ah !  you  better  stop  dat  knockin'  at  my  door,"  — 
"  let  me  in," 

u  Stop  dat  knockin',  stop  dat  knockin',  stop  dat  knock- 
in'," 

*  Stop  dat  knockin',  oh !  you  better  stop  dat  knockin1 
at  my  door." 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  45 

She  was  the  handsomest  gal  dat  eber  I  did  see  • 
She  neber  went  out  walkin'  with  any  colored  mar. 

but  me ; 
I  took  my  banjo  to  the  house,  to  play  three  times  or 

more, 

When  I  heard  two  or  three  knocks  pretty  hard, 
Come  bang  agin  the  door 

Spoken.     With  a,  "Who  dat,  who  dat,"  &c. 


Bowery  Gals. 

The  music,  with  piano-forie  accompaniment,  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

As  I  was  lumbering  down  de  street, 

O,  down  de  street, 

O,  down  de  street, 

Dat  pretty  colord  gal  I  chanc'd  to  meet, 
0,  she  war  fair  to  view. 

Ch.     Den  de  Bowery  gals  will  you  come  out  to-night, 
Will  you  come  out  to-night  ? 
Will  you  come  out  to-night? 
0,  de  Bowery  gals  will  you  come  out  'to-night  ? 
And  dance  by  de  light  ob  de  moon? 

Den  we  stopp'd  awhile  and  had  some  talk, 

0,  we  had  some  talk, 

O,  we  had  some  talk, 

And  her  heel  cover'd  up  the  whole  side-walk, 
As  she  stood  right  by  me. 

Ch.     Den  de  Bowery  gals,  &c. 

I'd  like  to  kiss  dem  lubly  lips, 
Dem  lubly  lips, 
Dem  lubly  lips, 


46  CHRISTY'S 

I  think  dat  I  could  lose  my  wits, 
And  drap  right  on  de  floor. 

Ch.     Den  de  Bowery  gals,  &c. 

I  ax'd  her  would  she  go  to  a  dance, 

Would  she  go  to  a  dance, 

Would  she  go  to  a  dance, 
I  thought  dat  I  might  have  a  chance 
To  shake  my  foot  wid  her. 

Ch.     Den  de  Bowery  gals,  &c. 

I  danc'd  all  night  and  my  heel  kept  a  rocking, 
O,  my  heel  kept  a  rocking, 
O,  my  heel  kept  a  rocking, 

And  I  balance  to  de  gal  wid  a  hole  in  her  stocking, 
She  was  de  prettiest  gal  in  de  room. 

Ch.     Den  de  Bowery  gals,  &c. 

i  am  bound  to  make  dat  gal   my  wife, 
Dat  gal  my  wife, 
Dat  gal  my  wife,' 
0,  I  should  be  happy  all  my  life, 
If  I  had  her  along  wid  me. 

Ch.    Den  de  Bowery  gals,  &c. 


The  Haunted  Well, 

Tha  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Gaily  in  the  woody  cove  the  old  conk-shell  did  swell, 
As  de  coal-black  coon  escaped  his  foe  down  by  th«* 
haunted  well  j 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  47 

The  coon  he  went  it  all  his  might,  thro'  mud  and  o'er 

the  stump, 
And  de  darkey  sped  o'er  heels  and  head,  and  coma 

butt  against  a  pump. 
All  round  he  sought  de  coal-black  coon, 
Dat  made  him  lose  the  boys  so  soon  j 
Except  himself,  no  other  swell 
Was  by  the  lonely  haunted  well. 

Chorus.     Hab  a  care,  don't  go  dar, 

For  the  dark  maid  watches  near; 
For  the  dark  maid  all  can  hear, 
For  the  dark  maid  watfhes  near. 

/ 
The  pale  white   catnip   growing  dar  its   fragments 

round  did  smell, 
As  the  darkey  lay  all  night  that  day  down  by  the 

haunted  well ; 
A  girl  was  dar,  she  stood  on  air,  her  features  were 

so  mild  ; 
She  took  a  horn  and  blow'd  dese  words,  "Eh  !  eh! 

darkey,  you're  de  child  !" 
"My  ebony  rose,  my  darkey  pride, 
Come  lib  wid  me  and  be  my  bride, 
Nor  like  a  pump  disgrace  yoursel' 
By  standing  in  dat  haunted  well." 
Chorus.     Hab  a  care,  &c. 

Down  in  de  wate  -she  did  stoop  for  a  ring — oh,  what 

a  sell  ! 
On  his  finger  den  she  placed  de  hoop,  and  dey  both 

slid  down  the  well : 
'Twas  on  dat  day  de  coon  did  stray,  'twas  then  poor 

Sambo  fell  ; 
When  darkeys  near,  they  often  hear  a  voice  cry  out 

"All's  well!" 

At  midnight  then  dar  forms  are  seen, 
Propelling  on  a  coon  around  de  green  j 
Voices  am  heard  and  conk-shells  swell, 
Around  that  lonely  haunted  well. 

Chorus.     Hab  a  care,  &c. 


48  CHRISTY'S 


We'll  have  a  little  Dance  to-night,  Boys. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Win.  Hall  &  Son,  New  York. 

Oh !  listen  to  this  good  old  tune, 

And  then  I'll  sing  anoder; 
Oh !  massa  gwan  this  afternoon 

To  call  upon  his  brudder  : 
So,  darkies,  wait  a- little  while, 

Till  he  gets  out  of  sight ; 
We'll  drop  de  shovel  and  de  hoe, 

And  have  a  little  dance  to-night. 

Cfwrus      We'll  have  a  little  dance  to-night,  boys! 

To-night,  boys  !  to-night,  boys ! 
We'll  have  a  little  da.nce  to-night,  boys, 
And  dance  by  the  light  of  the  moon 

I  wants  de  kimbric  handkerchief, 

. '  I  wants  de  beaver  hat ; 

Oh !  hand  me  down  de  high  heel  boots 

Likewise  de  silk  cravat. 
The  darkies  all  are  grinning, 

Their  teeth  look  berry  white, 
Case  dere  gwine  ober  de  mountain. 

To  have  a  little  dance  to-night. 

Chorus.     To  have  a  little  dance,  ecc. 

I  rises  at  the  broke  of  day, 

To  take  my  morning  walk ; 
I  meets  my  lovely  Julian. 

And  dis  is  the  way  we  talk, 
says,  You  are  my  only  lub, 

You  are  my  heart's  delight; 
Won't  you  go  over  de  riber, 

To  have  a  little  dance  to-night  * 

Chorus.     We'll  have  a  little  dance,  £c. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  49 


I  wish  I  was  in  Ole  Vargmny. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

I  wish  I  was  in  Ole  Varginny, 

Wid  Dinah  an  de  pickerniny ; 

Jus  sitting  down  to  dinner  off  of  gumbOj 

For  dat's  de  berry  ting  for  Jumbo. 

Chorus.  Oh !  Ole  Varginny  am  de  place,  boys, 

Whar  a  sassy  nigger  nebber  dars  to  show 
his  face,  boys. 

'Tis  dar  de  yaller  gals  am  beautiful, 
An  massa's  berry  kind  and  dutiful ; 
Bar  de  rice  an  hominy  am  plenty, 
Poor  nigger's  stomach  dar  nebber  empty. 

Chorus.  Oh !  Ole  Varginny  am  de  place,  boys, 

Whar  dandy  niggers  shine  on  Sunday  wid  a 
grace,  boys. 

De  fair  sex  dar  am  quite  bewitching; 
For  should  you  ebber  meet  one  in  de  kitchen, 
You  sure  to  feel  your  heart  a  growing  bigger, 
When  you  hear  her  cry  out.  Oh !  you  lubly  nigger 

Chorus.  Oh !  Ole  Varginny  am  de  place,  boys, 

Whar  a  hansom  gal  arnrt  'shamed  to  look  y 
in  de  face,  boys. 

I  wanted  lubly  Dinah  for  a  wife,  sar, 

But  I  did  n't  say  a  word  upon  my  life,  sar ; 

I  rolTd  my  eye,  and  grinn'd,  but  did  n't  speak,  sal 

An  Dinah  was  my  chum  chum  in  a  week,  sar. 

Chorus,  Oh  !  Ole  Varginny  am  de  place,  boys, 

Whar  you'll  get  a  wife  for  sure,  by  grinning 

in  her  face,  boys. 
5 


50  CHRISTY'S 


Rosa  Dear. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  fcf 
Jaques  &  Brother,  New  York. 

0,  de  sun  dat  rises  in  de  eastern  sky 

Am  not  more  clear,  am  not  more  clear, 
Da\  de  light  dat  shines  from  de  coal-brack  eye 

Ob  Rosa  dear,  ob  Rosa  dear. 
And  de  sun  when  he  sets  in  de  yaller  west, 
A  sighin'  for  de  darkies  to  go  to  dere  rest, 
Am  not  more  quiet  dan  de  charcoal  breast 
Ob  Rosa  dear,  ob  Rosa  dear. 

Chorus.     O,  de  sun,  &c. 


At  night  when  I  presses  de  lubly  hand 

Ob  Rosa  dear,  ob  Roea  dear, 
It  seems  she  has  drapt  from  a  heavenly  band 

In  de  moonlight  clear,  in  de  moonlight  clear. 
When  de  daylight  cornes,  I  hasten  away, 
For  if  I  don't,  ole  massa  '11  say 
Pat  I  no  more  shall  my  banjo  play 

To  Rosa  dear,  my  Rosa  dear. 

Chorus.     0,  de  sun,  &c. 

It  almost  makes  dis  darkey  cry, 

To  see  de  tear,  to  see  de  tear, 
Dat  draps  like  a  pearl  from  de  coal-brack  eye 

Ob  Rosa  dear,  my  Rosa  dear. 
Den  wid  my  lips  I  brush  it  away, 
And  tell  her  "every  one  has  his  day," 
Oh.  Lor  !   what  sweet  things  I  do  say 

To  Rosa  dear,  my  Rosa  dear 

Chorus.     O,  de  sun,  &c. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  51 

Now,  folks,  I'll  tell  you  something  true, 
Widout  any  fear,  dat's  berry  clear, 

I's-e  not  going  to  marry  Cynthia  Sue— 
But  Rosa  dear,  my  Rosa  dear. 

And  when  we're  married  we'll  have  a  spree, 

Which  we  invite  all  de  white  folks  to  see, 

How  happy  den  dis  darkey  will  be 
Wid  Rosa  dear,  his  Rosa  dear. 

Chorus.     0,  de  sun,  &c. 


I'm  off  for  Charleston. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Poud  &  Co.,  New  York. 

My  massa  an  my  missus,  dey  both  am  gone  away, 
Dey  gone  to  de  Sulpher  Springs  de  summer  months 

tb  stay ; 
An  while  dey'r  off  togeder,  on  dis  little  kind   pb 

spree, 
I'll  go  down  to  Charleston,  de  pretty  gals  to  see. 

Chorus. 

I'm  off  for  Charleston  early  in  de  morning, 
I'm  off  for  Charleston  a  little  while  To  stay. 

Give  my  respects  to  ev'ry  pretty  yaller  gal, 
I'm  off  for  Charleston  before  de  broke  ob  day. 

My  Nelly  waved  her  handkerchief  when  she  seed 

me  go, 

Floating  down  de  ribber  wid  de  old  banjo. 
As  I  stood  and  gazed  upon  her,  I  wiped  away  a 

tear, 
An  de  last  word  I  sed  to  her  was,  Far  you  well,  my 

dear. 

Chorus.     I'm  off  for  Charleston,  &c. 


52  CHRISTY'S 

It  begin  to  rain  a  little,  de  night  was  very  dark. 

An  when   my  Nelly  said  "  good-bye,"  de  dogs  begin 

to  bark. 
De  dog  be  scar't  de  buzzard,  de  buzzard  scart  de 

coon, 
Dey  all  made  a  nigger  run  till  next  day  noon. 

Chorus.     I'm  off  for  Charleston,  &c. 

De  coon  begin  to  tire,  de  dog  he  tire  too, 

De  nigger  he  got  tireder,  an  he  did  n't  know  what 

to  do; 

De  buzzards  kept  a  flying  till  de  chickens  gin  to  crow, 
Den  he  carne  down  to  hear  me  play  de  old  banjo 

Chorus.     I'm  off  for  Charleston,  &c. 

Charleston  is  a  pretty  place,  de  gals  dey  kiss  so  sweet, 
Dey  am  so  slender  'bout  de  waist,  and  dress  so  bery 

neat ; 
But  I'd  rudder  kiss  my  Nell,  dan  all  de  gals  I  ebber 

see, 
Kase  her  breff  is  like  *n  orange-blossom  hanging  on 

a  tree. 

Chorus.     I'm  off  for  Charleston,  &c. 


Poor  Aunt  Dinah. 

Fhe  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Stagman  &  Brother,  Philadelphia. 

I  knew  an  old  darky  aunty  once, 

She  lived  in  Louisiana; 
The  white  folks  call'd  her  Dinah,  but 

She  call'd  herself  Diana. 


PLANTATION    MELODIES.  53 

Her  eyes  wer-e  black,  her  teef  were  white, 

Her  figure  tall  and  slender, 
Her  arms  were  stout,  her  hands  were  tough, 

But  her  nigga  heart  was  tender. 

Chorus.     Poor  Aunt  Dinah!  Poor  Aunt  Dinah! 

Her  arms  were  stout,  her  hands  were  tough, 
But  her  nigga  heart  was  tender. 

Old  Aunty  Dinah  lived  alone 

In  her  cabin  by  de  river, 
Whar  de  niggas  came,  both  young  and  eld, 

Deir  duty  for  to  give  her; 
She  taught  'em  how  to  knit  and  spin, 

And  maybe  something  finer; 
But  dey  could  not  make  de  good  hoe-cake 

As  good  as  old  Aunt  Dinah. 

CJiorus.     Poor  Aunt  Dinah  !  Poor  Aunt  Dinah  ! 
Dey  could  not  make  de  good  hoe-cake 
As  good  as  old  Aunt  Dinah. 

At  last  she  died, — Aunt  Dinah  died,— 

She  died  of  yaller  fever, 
And  massa  laid  her  in  her  grave, 

Whar  all  shed  tears  to  leave  h*r. 
We  put  on  biack  in  Louisiana  State, 

And  some  in  Carolina; 
A  slab  of  pine  we  put  at  her  head 

And  on  it  we  wrote  —  Dinah  ! 

Chants.     Poor  Aunt  Dinah  !  Poor  Aunt  Dinah  . 
A  slab  of  pine  we  put  at  her  head, 
And  on  it  we  wrote  —  Dinah. 


54  CHRISTY'S 


Come  to  de  Ole  Glum  Tree. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  pui/libhert  by 
Wm.  Variderbeck,  New  York. 

Come  to  ds  ole  Gum-tree, 

Whar  de  coon  an'  de  possum  prance  j 
0,  come  you  nigs  wid  me, 

An'  join  in  de  jovial  dance. 

Solo.      De  coon  he  is  above  us, 

His  meat  is  in  de  tree, 
We  know  dat  he  don't  lub  us, 
But  fond  ob  him  are  we. 

Chorus.     Den  come  to  de  ole  Gum-tree,  &c. 

Oh,  de  wood  an'  its  yaller  leaves ; 

Oh,  de  cotton  plants  an'  flowers; 
Den  come  you  nigger  wid  us, 

For  a  merry  life  is  ours. 

Solo.      Around  and  above  us, 

De  banjo's  sweet  notes, 
An'  de  voice  ob  de  niggers 

Come  rolling  from  dar  throats. 

Chorus.     Den  come  to  de  ole  Gum-tree,  &c 

Come  to  de  ole  oak-tree, 

So  softly,  boys,  as  you  can, 
An'  we'll  go  to  de  ole  Gum-tree; 

An'  catch  dat  coon  if  we  can. 

Solo.      Dat  nigger  plays  de  fiddle. 

An'  I  de  tamborine  ; 
We  am  de  happiest  set  ob  niggers 
Dat  eber  'fore  was  seen. 

Chorus.     Den  come  to  de  ole  Gum-tree,  &c. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  56 

Oh  Come,  Darkies,  Come. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

Oh  come,  darkies,  come,  let  us  dance  while  we  may, 

How  sweet  am  de  tambourine's  sound  ;— 
Why  should  we  work  thro'  de  long  summer  day, 

Nor  dance  when  de  night  cornes  around  ? 
Dere's  Pompey  and  Dinah  and  Julius  and  Sue, 

And  Crow  sitting  dere  wid  a  frown  j— . 
Den  come  wid  de  banjo,  de  fiddle  and  bones, 

We'll  dance  till  de  moon  am  gone  down 

Clwrus. 
Oh  come,  darkies,  come,  let  us  dance  while  we  may, 

How  sweet  am  de  tambourine's  sound ; — 
Why  should  we  work  thro'  de  long  summer  day, 

Nor  dance  when  de  night  comes  around  ? 

!0h  come,  oh  come,  oh  darkies  come, 
Oh  come,  oh  darkies  come,  oh  come. 

Ole  Massa's  asleep  and  snoozing  away, 
And  clos-ed  for  de  night  is  his  eye  ; 

He  will  not  wake  up  till  the  broke  ob  de  day— 
Oh,  dere  let  de  old  possum  lie ! 

Dere's  Sambo  and  Rosy  and  Gumbo  and  Fan, 
And  Snow  wid  his  Phillisy  dear; — 

Den  come  wid  de  banjo,  de  fiddle  and  bones, 
And  dance  till  de  morning  appear. 

Chorus.     Oh  come,  &c. 


Repeat.  <  ( 


JMassa  sound  is  Sleeping. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Messrs.  Firth,  Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

The  moon  is  shining  bright  and  clear, 
The  flowers  are  budding  free, 

The  coon  is  creeping  to  the  corn, 
And  the  waves  dance  on  the  sea. 


56  CHRISTY'S 

Chorus.      Then  haste  away,  my  dearest  Nell, 

For  rnassa  sound  is  sleeping; 
We'll  run  away  and  married  be, 
And  leave  the  niggers  weeping. 

A  cot  within  a  dell  we'll  have, 

Where  flowers  bright  are  blooming, 

And  cotton  blossoms  strew  the  earth, 
As  if  'twere  winter  snowing. 

Chorus.     Then  haste,  &c. 

A  bright  and  sunny  spot  we'll  choose, 
Where  coons  and  possums  play ; 

And  when  our  daily  labour's  done, 
We'll  sing  and  dance  away. 

Chorus.     Then  haste,  &c. 

And  while  the  niggers  gaily  dance, 

The  banjos  play  and  ring ; 
The  niggers  all  shall  merry  be, 

And  gaily  laugh  and  sing. 

Chorus.     Then  haste,  &c. 


^^_  Walk  in  the  Parlour. 

/     The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Jaques  &  Brother,  New  York. 

'm  right  from  old  Varginny,  with  my  head  so  full 

of  knarledge, 

i  never  went  to  free  school,  or  any  odder  college ; 
But  I  will  tell  you  one  ting,  it  is  a  certain  fact, 
I'll  git  you  'scription  of  de  world  in  a  twinkling  of  a 
crack, 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  67 

1st  Voice.  So  walk  in  ! 
2d  Voice.  —Walk  in! 
3d  Voice.  —  Walk  in,  I  say ! 

4th  Voice.    —  Walk  into  de  parlour,  and   hear  de. 
banjo  play. 

Chorus.     Walk  into  de  parlour,  and  hear  de  banjo 

ring, 
And  Watch  de  darkey's  fingers  while  he  picks  it  on 

de  string. 

Lightning  is  a  yaller  gal  who  libs  up  in  de  clouds, 
Thunder  is  a  brack  man,  and  he  can  holler  loud  ; 
When  he  kisses  Lightning,  she  darts  up  in  a  wonder  ; 
He  jumps  up  and  grabs  de  clouds,  and  dat's  what 
makes  it  thunder. 

1st  Voice,  &c. 

Chorus.     Walk  into  de  parlour,  &c. 

Noah  built  de  ark  and  filled  it  full  of  sassage, 

All  de  odder  animals  took  a  cabin  passage ; 

De    elephant  he   cum    last,  — Noah    said,   "You's 

drunk !" 
k<  No,"  says  he,  "  it  took  me  all  dis  time  to  pack  away 

my  trunk!" 

1st  Voice,  &c. 

Chorus.     Walk  into  de  parloui,  &c. 

l\  Noah  sent  de  bird  out,  to  look  for  dry  land  — 
When  he  cum  back,  he  had  de  banjo  in  his  hand  ; 
I  took  up  de  banjo,  and  played  'em  dis  ere  tune  — 
All  the  animals,  ?cept  the  elephant,  feU  into  a  swoon. 

1st  Voice.  &c. 

Chorus.     Walk  into  de  parlour,  &c. 


58 


Wake  up,  Mose! 

"THE  ENGINE'S  COMING." 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompanirm nt,  published  by 
W.  C.  Peters  &  Co.,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 

Oh,  white  folks,  listen  to  my  song,  come  listen  to  my 

ditty; 
I'll  tell  you  'bout  a  colour'd  chap,  born  in  de  Empire 

City. 
He  used   to  run   de    machine,  he   was   de   engine 

tender ; 
Oh,    golly !    he    was   some,    when   he    got   upon   a 

bender ! 

Chorus.     Oh,  wake  up,  Mose! 

Wake  up,  Mose ! 

Wake  up,  Mose!  de  fire  is  burning, 
Round  de  corner  de  smoke  is  curling; 
Take  de  rope,  and  keep  her  running; 
Fire!  Fire!  Fire!  &c. 

Oh!  Mose  he  went  to  college,  and  says  he  am  a 

poet; 
And  while  de  rope  am  good  and  strong,  he  says  he's 

bound  to  go  it ; 
Dat  "Milton"  went  to  "paradise,"  and  Byron  he  was 

witty, 
But   Mose    he    means  to    'mortalize    dis   same   ole 

Empire  City. 

Chorus.  Oh,  wake  up,  &c. 

.  Oh !  Bonaparte  was  de  chap  that  went  to  Santalena, 

And  Billy  Brutus  was  de  man  dat  sarsigenated  Ceasa; 

Cromwell  was  de  Oliver  that  gave  it  to  'em  pretty, 

And  Billy  Patterson  was   de   one   that  named   the 

Empire  City. 

Chorus.     Oh,  wake  up,  &c. 


.       PLANTATION   MELODIES.  59 

Oh  !    Mose    he   went   to   Mexico,  and   dar  ha   saw 

Santa  Anna ; 
He  took  a  message  to  de  camp  —  'twas,  "Zachary 

don't  surrender!" 
Says  Santa,  uWhar  do  you  come  from?  you  seems 

to  be  so  witty  ?" 
Says  Mose,  "  Look  here,  I'm  one  ob  de  b'hoys  come" 

from  de  Empire  City !" 

Chorus.     Oh,  wake  up,  &e, 


Dolly  Day. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
F.  D.  Benteen,  Baltimore,  Md. 

I've  told  you  'bout  de  banjo, 

De  riddle  and  de  bow  ; 
Likewise  about  de  cotton-field, 

De  shubble  and  de  hoe ; 
x   I've  sung  about  de  bulgine 

Dat  blew  de  folks  away; 
And  now  I'll  sing  a  little  song 

About  my  Dolly  Day. 

Charv*.     Oh !  Dolly  Day  looks  so  gay, 
I  run  all  round  and  round, 
To  hear  her  fairy  footsteps  play, 
As  she  comes  o'er  de  ground. 
(Repeat.) 


I  like  to  seo  de  clover 
Dat  grows  about  de  lane ; 

I  like  to  see  de  'bacco  plant, 
I  like  de  sugar  cane  j 


SO  CHRISTY'S 

But  on  de  old  plantation 
Der's  nothing  half  so  gay, 

Der's  nothing  dat  I  love  so  much 
As  my  sweet  Dolly  Day. 

Zkorus.     Oh !  Dolly  Day,  &c. 

When  de  work  is  over  « 

I  make  de  banjo  play, 
And  while  I  strike  de  dulcem  notes, 

I  think  of  Dolly  Day. 
Her  form  is  like  a  posy — 

De  lily  of  de  vale, 
Her  voice  is  far  de  sweetest  sound 

Dat  floats  upon  de  gale. 

Zlwrut.     Oh  !  Dolly  Day,  &c. 

Massa  give  me  money 

To  buy  a  peck  of  corn  ; 
I'se  guine  to  marry  Dolly  Day, 

And  build  myself  a  barn  ; 
Den  when  I'm  old  and  feeble, 

And  when  my  head  is  gray, 
I'll  trabble  down  de  hill  of  life 

Along  wid  Dolly  Day. 

Chorus.     Oh!  Dolly  Day,  &e. 


Angelina  Baker. 

Che  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  publisbad  fcj 
F.  D.  Benteen,  Baltimore,  Md. 

.    Way  down  on  de  old  plantation — 

Dah's  where  I  was  born, 
I  used  to  beat  de  whole  creation 
Hcein'  in  de  corn : 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  61 

Oh!  den  I  work  and  den  I  sing 

So  happy  all  de  day, 
Till  Angelina  Baker  came  ' 

And  stole  my  heart  away. 

Chwus.      Angelina  Baker ! 

Angelina  Baker's  gone — 
She  left  me  here  to  weep  a  tear, 
And  beat  on  de  old  jaw-bone. 

(Repeat] 
I've  seen  my  Angelina 

In  de  spring-time  and  de  fall ; 
I've  seen  her  in  de  corn-field, 

And  I've  seen  her  at  de  ball ; 
And  eb'ry  time  I  met  her 

She  was  smiling  like  de  sun, 
But  now  I'm  left  to  weep  a  teai 
Cayse  Angelina's  gone. 

Chorus.     Angelina  Baker !  &c. 

Angelina  am  so  tall 

She  nebber  sees  de  ground, 
She  hab  to  take  a  wellumscope 

To  look  down  on  de  town  ; 
Angelina  like  de  boys 

As  far  as  she  can  see  dem, 
She  used  to  run  old  massa  round 

To  ax  him  for  to  free  dem. 

Chorus.     Angelina  Baker !  &c. 

'  Early  in  de  morning 

Ob  a  lubly  summer  day, 
I  ax  for  Angelina, 

And  dey  say  "  She's  gone  away"-— 
I  dont  know  wha  to  find  her, 

Cayse  I  don't  know  wha  she's  gone., 
She  left  me  here  to  weep  a  tear, 

And  beat  on  de  old  jaw-bone. 

Chorus.     Angelina  Baker.  &c. 
6 


02  CHRISTY'S 


Me  li  n  da  May* 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
F.  D.  Benteeu,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Lubly  Melinda,  come  now,  my  dear! 

I'm  waiting,  I'm  waiting  for  you  ; 
Shut  down  de  window,  dry  up  de  tear, 

And  walk  wid  me  ober  de  dew. 

Chorus.     Lubly  Melinda,  Melinda,  Melinda, 

My  sweet  Melinda  May. 

I  could  work  in  de  field  and  DC  happy  all  de  day, 
If  you  would  only  smile  again,  my  sweet  Melinda 
May! 

Laugh  in  de  sunshine,  weep  in  de  rain, 

And  walk  wha  de  lily-bud  bloom, 
Down  in  de  meadow,  ober  de  lane, — 

Oh  come,  my  Melinda  lub,  come. 

Chorus.     Lubly  Melinda,  &c. 

Lubly  Melinda  is  bright  as  de  beam, 

No  snow-drop  was  eber  more  fair 
She  smiles  like  de  roses  dat  bloom  round  de  stream, 

And  sings  like  de  birds  in  de  air. 

Chorus.     Lubly  Melinda,  &c. 

If  I  was  a  hero,  and  people  would  fall 

Where  eber  I'd  tell  dem  to  lie, 
I'd  make  my  Melinda  de  queen  ob  dem  ail, 

And  lib  on  de  light  ob  her  eye. 

Chorus.     Lubly  Melimla,  &c. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES. 


Kate  Loraine. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

Dere  was  a  lubly  charmer, 

In  ole  Car'Iina  State, 
De  pride  of  all  de  darkies, 

And  dey  call'd  her  charming  Kate. 
I  lub'd  her  berry  dearly, 

As  I  ne'er  can  lub  again, 
For  her  heart  was  kind  and  gentle, 

And  free  from  eb'ry  stain. 

Chums.     Oh  !  I  ne'er  can  lub  anudder, 

So  fond,  so  true  again  ; 
I'm  thine,  and  thine  forebber, 
My  charming  Kate  Loraine. 

We  lib'd  in  de  same  cabin 

For  many  happy  years  ; 
We  nebber  dreamt  of  sorrow, 

We  shed  no  bitter  tears. 
But,  oh  !  she  went  and  left  me 

One  bright  and  blooming  spring, 
And  here  alone  and  weeping, 

I  sit  me  down  and  sing. 

CAorus.     Oh !  I  ne'er  can  lub  anudder,  &c. 

But  fare  thee  well,  sweet  Katy, 

Thou'rt  gone,  forebber  gone! 
And  here,  alas  !  I  wander 

All  sadly  and  alone. 
Alone  and  broken-hearted, 

I  wander  night  and  day; 
Oh !  how  can  I  be  happy 

When  Katy's  far  away! 

Chorus.     Oh !  I  ne'er  can  lub  anudder,  &o. 


64  CHRISTY7S 


She  Sleeps  in  the  Grave. 

Tne  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
G.  P.  Reed  &  Co.,  Boston. 

How  oft  have  you  asked  why  I  never  am  gay ! 
Why  my  forehead  is  wrinkled,  my  hair  has  turned 

gray; 
Why  the  friends  of  my  heart,  and  the  tried  ones  of 

years, 

Have  ne'er  seen  me  smile,  but  oft  found  me  in  tears ; 
Why  I  fly  from  your  sports,  and  your  pastimes  pass  by, 
And  why  from  my  bosom  I  oft  heave  a  sigh ! 
But  listen,  my  friends,  'tis  the  last  time  I'll  have 
To  tell  of  the  dear  one  who  sleeps  in  the  grave ! 

Chorus.  She  sleeps  in  the  grave !  she  sleeps  in  the 
grave ! 

Where  the  sweet  flowers  grow  and  the  tall 
willows  wave ; 

And  the  moon  when  she  sails  in  the  hea 
vens  above, 

Looks  sadly  and  cold  on  the  tomb  of  my 
love ! 

Yes,  alas !  oh,  alas !  she  has  gone,  she  has  gone ! 
[  have  none  to  love  now !  I'm  alone,  all  alone ! 
She  was  sick,  and  my  heart  said  with  many  a  sigh, 
That  Dinah,  the  wife  of  my  bosom,  must  die! 
How  my  heart  beateth  now,  as  her  last  words  I  tell  : 
She   kissed    me  and    said  —  "Fare  thee   well!    O! 

farewell!" 
When  the  bright  sun  had  sunk  to  his  home  in  the 

west, 
My  Dinah,  my  darling,  lay  dead  on  my  breast. 

Chorus.     And  she  sleeps  in  the  grave !  &c. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES  66 


The  Darkey's  Serenade. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
G.  P.  Reed  &  Co.,  Boston. 

Oh  !  come,  my  lovely  Dinah, 

Come,  hasten,  love,  to  rne ; 
The  moon  shines  bright  and  beautiful 

Across  the  rippling  sea. 
I  love  you  as  the  stars  of  night, 

That  shine  in  heaven  above. 
Then  come  away  with  me  this  night, 

My  best,  my  only  love. 

Charu9.     Then  come  away,  my  Dinah,  dear, 

Oh !  come  away  with  me  ; 
For  all  the  world  is  fast  asleep, 
And  the  moon  shines  o'er  the  sea. 

Oh  !  Dina,  dear,  you  know  for  years 

I  loved  you  long  and  well, 
And  now  I've  come  this  very  night, 

My  love  for  you  to  tell : — 
And  if  you  do  not  say  this  night 

You  love  this  darkey  swain, 
I'll  throw  myself  into  the  sea, 

And  I'll  ne'er  come  back  again. 

Chorus.     Then  come  away,  my  Dinah,  &e. 


Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 
Wm.  Vanderbeck,  New  York. 

Dar's  many  nigger  now-a-day, 
Dat  try  to  imp  de  monkey  play, 
But  ob  all  de  nigger  dat  you  see, 
Dar's  none  like  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 
6* 


66  CHRISTY'S 


Chorus.     Dat  you,  Joe  ?  dat  you,  Joe  ? 
Yes,  'tis  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

(Repeat.) 


When  I  buried  Rosa  Lee, 
I  cried  tree  weeks  to  dat  degree 
Her  sister  Dina  say  to  me, 
I  lub  you,  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

Chorus.    Dat  you,  Joe,  &c 

My  Dina  she  so  fair,  so  bright, 
She's  black  as  ace  of  spades  at  mgnt; 
And  when  'tis  day,  'tis  plain  to  see 
She's  just  like  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

Chorus.     Dat  you,  Joe,  &c 

My  massa  one  day  try  to  whip 
Dis  nigger,  who  gib  him  de  slip ; 
Dat  make  him  laff  to  dat  degree, 
He  look  like  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

Choi  us.     Dat  you,  Joe,  &c. 

I  den  made  up  my  mind  to  go, 
Trough  all  de  States  my  jenus  show  • 
To  sing  and  dance  the  banjo  glee, 
Pat's  made  by  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

Chorus,     Dat  you,  Joe,  &c 

Dis  nigger  trabble  far  and  wide, 
Wid  1'ably  Dina  by  he  side ; 
And  on  de  road  dey  say  to  me, 
You  look  like  Joe  ob  Tennessee. 

Chorus.     Dat  you,  Joe,  &c. 


PLANTATION  MELODIES.  67 

De  money  I  hab  made,  I  keep ; 
And  when  I'm  dead  and  fast  asleep, 
My  Dina  she  will  berry  me 
Wid  Rosa  dear,  ob  Tennessee. 


Chorus.     Rosa  dear,  Rosa  dear,  &c. 


Julia  Green* 


The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  by 

Wm.  Variderbeck,  New  York. 


Oh !  I  hab  been  from  norf  to  souf, 

And  darkey  gals  I've  seen ; 
But  none  did  eber  seem  to  me 

So  sweet  as  Julia  Green.! 
She  dances  and  she  skips  about, 

And  cuts  de  pigeon  wing ; 
And,  oh  !  it  seems  such  melody, 

When  she  begins  to  sing! 

Chorus.     Oh !  I  hab  been  from  norf  to  souf; 

And  darkey  gals  I've  seen; 
But  none  did  eber  seem  to  me 
So  sweet  as  Julia  Green  I 

I've  sat  and  watch 'd  de  lubly  moon 
Go  sliding  down  the  sky ; 

And  ebery  little  twinkling  star 
Seem'd  Julia's  shinin'  eye. 


Oh,  how  I  lub  dis  darkey  gal ! 

How  happy  hab  I  been, 
When  neath  de  sweet,  de  heab^nly  smile, 

Ob  darhn  Julia  Green! 

Chorus.     Oh!  I,,  hab  been,  &c. 

A  pledge  ob  lub  she'd  gib  to  me, 
She  said  wid  honey  bref ; 

I  ax'd  her  what  dat  pledge  should  be— 
She  sigh'd,  and  said  —  hersef! 

I  threw  my  arms  around  her  neck, 
She  on  my  breast  did  lean  ; 

While  brack-wing'd  angels  hober'd  o'er 
Myself  and  Julia  Green ! 

Chorus.     Oh !  I  hab  been,  &c, 


Lynchburg  Town. 

The  music,  with  piano-forte  accompaniment,  published  fry 
Win.  Vanderoeck,  New  York. 

You  may  talk  as"  you  will  ob  de  good  ole  time, 

Of  Dandy  Jim  and  Joe ; 
But  we  am  de  darkies  for  fun  and  glee, 

And  we  sing  and  play  de  ole  banjo ! 

Chorus. 

And  we're  gwine  'long  down, 
/Ind  we're  gwine  long  down  to  town, 
ind  we're  gwine  long  down  to  Lynchburg  to     ftj 
•o  sing  to  de  white  folks  down  dar  I 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  69 

We  have  songs  to  sing  to  de  ladies  fair, 
And  dere  names  I'm  gwine  to  tell; 

Dere  is  "  Kate  Loraine"  and  * Julia  Green,  * 
De  "Husking  Song"  and  •'Romping  Nell*" 

Chorus.     And  we're  gwine,  &c. 

Dere  is  "  Laughing  Joe,"  dat  good  ole  soul, 

How  he  lub'd  his  darling  "  Sal !" 
Oh,  he  lafF'd  all  de  time  when  de  priest  was  dai, 

Case  he'd  got  sich  a  pretty  brack  gal. 

Chorus.     And  we're  gwine,  &c, 

I  can  tell  you  whar  dese  songs  do  grow, 

At  Van  Derbeek's  store  so  fine ; 
4Tis  just  ober  dar  across  de  way, 

Four  Hundred  and  Seventy-Nine. 

CJiorus.     And  we're  gwine,  &c. 


Negro's  Seven  Ages  —  Not  Shakspeare's. 

First  de  picaninny  what's  squallin  in  de  lap, 
Because  its  nigger  mammy  wont  gib  it  any  pap ; 
De  way  he  kicks  and  hollers  is  a  sin  to  human  natur 
Till  de  nurse  does  stop  his  mouf  wid  a  great  big  roast 

potater. 
A.nd  den  de  rascal 's  sent  to  school  wid  dinner  in  hi 

basket, 
Which  ob  course  he  eats  in  no  time,  afore  he  doe 

his  task  get ; 
nd  arter  school  is  ober,  he  gets  fightin  wid  de  boys, 


70  CHRISTY'S 

And  runs  home,  wid  his  eyes  both  black,  a  kickin 

up  a  noise. 
Den  de  willin  falls  in  lub,  and  courts  Miss  Dinah 

Slue. 
He  raves  and  swears  and  tears  his  hair,  and  jump 

about  Jim  Crow, 

'Till  his  daddy  punches  well  his  head,  jist  like  a 
.*         piece  ob  wood ; 
;Den  he's  cured  ob  dat,  which,  you  must  own,  does 

him  a  deal  ob  good. 

He  can't  go  for  a  soger — cos  his  colour,  it  is  black ; 
So  he  looks  for  work,  and  arterwards  he  tinks  he'll 

drive  a  hack ;     . 

But  de  horses  run  away  and  gib  him  lots  ob  trouble ; 
And  den  wid  him,  oh,  sad  to  tell !  busts  reputation's 

bubble. 

He  can't  be  justice  neider,  as  Massa  Shakspeare  says, 
Cos  a  nigger's  judgment  wont  go  down  wid  de  public 

now-a-days , 
But  he   raises  his  mouse-catchers,  and  goes  cook  on 

board  a  ship 
But  de  biler  busts,  ana  ne  escapes,  afore  he  went 

fust  trip. 
Now  de  darkey 's  gettin  old — good  gracious,  what  '11 

he  do? 
His  head  is  coming  from  his  hat,  his  toes  press  from 

his  shoe ; 
So  he  gets  some  blackin  and  a  brush,  and  sets  down 

on  de  walk, 
To  black  de  boots ;  but  Star 's  come  on,  and  make 

him  walk  his  chalk. 
Den  he  gets  so  old  dat  he  can't  see  —  his  wool  is  all 

gray, 
,And  de  white  folks  turn  dere  noses  up,  and  push 

him  out  de  way, 
'Till  he  crawls  into  same  cellar,  in  de  neighborhood 

close  by, 
Looks  about  for  a  soft  piece  ob  board,  and  lays  him 

down  to  die. 


PLANTATION   MELODIES.  71 

By  de   Seben  Ages  ob  de  Nigger,  white  folks,  yon 

plainly  see 
How  de  nigger 's  used  by  all  de  world,  when  a  little 

up  de  tree. 
K  He'd  no  business  to  be  nigger,"  ob  course,  you  all 

will  say; 
But  some  poor  folks  must  niggers  be,  or  white  trash 

rules  de  d*y. 

i 


WHOLESALE  AND  RETAIL  MUSIC  WAREHOUSES, 

FIRTH,  POND  &  CO., 

No.  1  Franklin  Square,  New  York, 

DEALERS  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISSt 

WM,  HALL  &  SON, 
No.  239  Broadway,  New  York,       * 
DEALERS  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE. 

G.  P.  BEED  &  CO., 

No.  17  Tremont  Row,  Boston. 

DEALERS  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE. 

F.    D.   BENTEEN, 

Baltimore,  Md. 
DEALER  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE. 

JAQUES    &   BROTHER, 

No.  385  Broadway,  New  York, 
DEALERS  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE, 

WM.  VANDERBECK, 

No.  479  Broadway,  New  York, 

DEALER  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE. 

WM.  C.  PETERS, 

Cincinnati,  Ohio, 
DEALER  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE, 

OLIVER  DITSON, 

No.  115  Washington  St.,  Boston, 

DEALER  IN  MUSICAL  MERCHANDISE. 

STAYMAN  &  BROTHER, 

No.  160  Chesnut  St.,  Phila.,  Successors  to  E.  L.WALKEB, 
DBALEBS    IN    MUSICAL    MERCHANDISX, 

(72) 


CHRISTY'S 
PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

(No.  2.) 

Eulalie. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &,  Co.,  New  York. 

Blue-birds,  linger  here  awhile, 
O'er  this  sacred  grassy  pile, 
Sing  your  sweetest  songs  to  me — 
'T  is  the  grave  of  Eulalie. 
Roses  white,  around  her  tomb 
Gently  wave  and  sweetly  bloom, 
Let  your  silent  language  be — 
"We  will  bloom  for  Eulalie." 

Streamlet,  chaunting  at  her  feet 
Mournful  music,  sad  and  sweet, 
Wake  her  not,  she  dreams  of  me 
'Neath  the  yew  tree,  Eulalie ! 
Eulalie,  but  yesternight, 
Came  a  spirit  veiled  in  white  ; 
I  knew  it  could  be  none  but  thee, 
Bride  of  Death,  lost  Eulalie. 

Angels,  guard  her  with  your  wings, 
Shield  her  from  unholy  things, 
Bid  her  dream  love-dreams  of  me, — 
Till  I  come,  sleep,  Eulalie! 

(7) 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Blue-birds,  linger  here  a  while, 
O'er  this  sacred  grassy  pile, 
Sing  your  sweetest  songs  to  me— • 
'Tis  the  grave  of  Eulalie. 


Massa's  in  the  Cold  Ground,   ""terS^ 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  Ne,w  York. 

Bound  the  meadows'  am  a  ringing 

The  darkies'  mournful  song, 
"While  the  mocking-bird  is  singing, 

Happy  as  the  day  is  long. 
"Where  the  ivy  is  a  creeping 

O'er  the  grassy  mound, 
There  old  massa  is  a  sleeping, 
•    Sleeping  in  the  cold,  cold  ground, 

Chorus.    Down  in  the  corn-field 

Hear  that  mournful  sound ; 
All  the  darkies  are  a  weeping — 
Massa's  in  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

When  the  autumn  leaves  were  falling, 

When  the  days  were  cold, 
'Twas  hard  to  hear  old  massa  calling, 

'Cause  he  was  so  weak  and  old. 
Now  the  orange  tree  is  blooming 

On  the  sandy  shore, 
Now  the  summer  days  are  coming, 

Massa  never  calls  no  more. 

Chorus.    Down  in  the  corn-field,  &c. 

Massa  made  the  darkies  love  him, 

He  always  was  so  kind, 
Now  they  sadly  weep  above  him. 

Mourning,  for  he  leave  them  behind. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

I  cannot  work  before  to-morrow, 
So  many  tear-drops  flow, 

I  try  to  drive  away  my  sorrow 
Picking  on  the  old  banjo. 

Chorus.    Down  in  the  corn-field,  &c. 


Ella  Kee. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Roddon 

and  Stewart,  Philadelphia. 
x 

Oh  Ella  Ree  so  kind  and  true 
In  the  little  churchyard  lies, 
Her  grave  is  bright  with  drops  of  dew, 

But  brighter  were  her  eyes. 
Then  carry  me  back  to  Tennessee, 

There  let  me  live  and  die, 
Among  the  fields  of  yellow  corn, 
And  the  land  where  Ella  lie. 

Chorus.    Carry  me  back  to  Tennessee,  £c. 

Her  pretty  eyes  and  gentle  form, 

Methinks  I  yet  can  see, 
I  love  the  spot  where  she  was  born 

Way  down  in  Tennessee. 
Then  carry  me  back  to  Tennessee, 

There  let  me  live  and  die, 
Among  the  fields  of  yellow  corn, 

And  the  land  where  Ella  lie. 

Chorus.    Carry  me  back  to  Tennessee,  &c. 

The  summer  moon  will  rise  and  set, 
And  the  night-birds  trill  their  lay, 

And  the  possum  and  coon  so  softly  step, 
Kound  the  grave  of  Ella  Ree. 


10  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Then  carry  me  back  to  Tennessee, 
There  let  me  live  and  die, 

Among  the  fields  of  yellow  corn, 
And  the  land  where  Ella  lie. 

Chorus.    Carry  me  back  to  Tennessee,  &c. 


I'll  Throw  Myself  Away. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte   accompaniment,  published  by  H&H 
and  Son,  New  York. 

Now,  ladies,  your  attention ! 

I  've  got  a  song  that 's  new, 
And  I  guess  I  just  will  mention, 

I  intended  it  for  you ; 
For  when  I  see  them  ruby  lips 

And  bright  eyes  turn'd  this  way, 
I  feel  so  good  I  'd  like  to  take 

And  throw  myself  away. 

Chorus.    Oh  yes,  I  love  the  white  folks  so, 

I  '11  serve  them  night  and  day, 
And  if  I  could  but  please  them,  why 
I  'd  throw  myself  away. 

I  've  seen  the  beauties  of  the  South, 

Likewise  the  East  and  West, 
And  thought  this  was  a  happy  land, 

By  such  dear  angels  blest ; 
But  when  I  saw  the  New  York  belles, 

That  promenade  Broadway, 
I  gosh,  I  thought  that  I  should  take 

And  throw  myself  away. 

Chorus.    Oh  yes,  I  love  the  white  folks  so,  &c. 

The  yellow  girls  in  the  Southern  Statr- 

-  Are  sometimes  very  neat, 
The  Creoles  too,  in  New  Orleans, 
Do  look  so  very  sweet; 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  11 

But  the  New  York  yellow  girls  do  dress 

So  "  gallus,"  neat,  and  gay, 
I  think  if  one  will  marry  me, 

I'll  chuck  myself  away. 

Chorus.    Oh  yes,  I  love  the  white  folks  so,  &c. 

Now,  gemmen,  I've  a  word  for  you, — 

You  bucks,  of  course,  I  mean, — 
I  think  you  are  the  luckiest  chaps 

That  ever  I  have  seen; 
With  such  dear  charmers  by  your  side, 

To  steal  your  hearts  away, 
I  golly,  I  think  if  I  was  you, 

I'd  throw  myself  away. 

Chorus.    Oh  yes,  I  love  the  white  folks  so,  &c. 


The  Old  Folks  are  Gone. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  HaU 
and  Son,  New  York. 

Far,  far  in  many  lands  I  've  wander'd, 

Sadly  and  lone, 
My  heart  was  ever  turning  southward, 

To  all  the  dear  ones  at  home ; 
Here,  after  all  my  weary  roaming, 

At  early  dawn, 
I've  come  and  find  the  cot  still  standing, 

But,  oh,  the  OLD  FOLKS  are  gone. 

Chorus.    Here  I  wander  sad  and  lonely, 

In  the  dear  old  home, 
Those  that  I  loved  so  well  and  fondly — 
All,  all  the  old  folks  are  gone. 

Here 's  where  I  frolic'd  with  my  brother 

Under  the  tree, 
Here 's  where  I  knelt  beside  my  mother, 

From  care  and  sorrow  free; 


• 

12  CHRISTIES    PLANTATION*    MELODIES. 

Still  sing  the  little  birds  as  sweetly, 

At  night  and  morn, 
Still  runs  the  little  brook  as  fleetly, 

But  0,  the  old  folks  are  gone. 

Chorus.    Here  I  wander  sad  and  lonely,   &c. 

Down  where  the  old  banana's  waving, 

They're  laid  to  rest, 
Where  Swanee's  peaceful  water 's  laving 

The  green  turf  o'er  their  breast; 
But  there  's  a  home  I  know,  where  parting 

Never  can  come ; 
Oh,  for  that  home  I  must  be  starting, 

There 's  where  the  old  folks  are  gone. 

Chorus.    Here  I  wander  sad  and  lonely,  &c. 


What  Shall  This  Darkey  Dot 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
arid  Son,  New  York. 

Oh  when  I  was  a  little  dark'  I  used  to  live  at  ease, 

I  used  to  peel  the  taters,  and  I  used  to  shell  the  peas  ; 

But  when  I  older  grew  I  went  to  work  on  the  plan 
tation, 

Where  this  lament  would  draw  the  tears  from  all  the 
darkey  nation. 

Chorus. 

What  shall  this  darkey  do?  what  shall  this  darkey  do? 
1  'd  like  to  leave  this  cotton  work  and  be  a  geiumuu 
too.        , 

I  got  aboard  a  steamboat,  and  I  travell'd  night  and 
day, 

And  I  landed  in  a  city  that  they  told  me  was  Broad 
way, 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  13 

Where  the  lamps  they  wouldn't   shine,  'cause  the 

ladies  eyes  so  bright, 
So  they  put  the  stars  in  candlesticks  about  the  streets 

at  night. 

Chorus.    What  shall  this  darkey  do  ?  &c. 

One  night  I  went  into  the  street,  and  there  I  saw  the 
moon 

A  spinning  round  upon  a  house  put  up  in  a  balloon, 

The  people's  faces  in  the  light,  'cording  to  my  inspec 
tion, 

Were  just  as  shiny  as  if  they  had  got  a  re-election. 

Chorus.    What  shall  this  darkey  do  ?  &c. 

I  saw  a  dandy  pair  of  boots  a  standing  in  the  street, 
But  no  one  seemed  to  want  them,  so  I  put  them  on 

my  feet, 
And  then  I  got  a  bran  new  hat  with  a  very  shining 

crown, 
Thinks  I,  "  My  friend,  you  'i?e  surely  got  the  freedom 

of  the  town." 

Chorus.    What  shall  this  darkey  do  ?  &c. 

They  took  me  to  a  gentleman,  who  sent  me  to  a 
college, 

Where  I  got  an  education  in  various  sorts  of  know 
ledge  ; 

I  learned  to  make  and  pick  a  lock,  I  learned  to  make 
a  shoe, 

And  I  used  to  boil  the  homony  when  I  'd  nothing 
else  to  do. 

Chorus. 

What  shall  this  darkey  do  ?  what  shall  this  darkey  do  ? 
He 's  got  his  Sing  Sing  learning,  and  he  's  a  gemnian 
too. 


14  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Oh !  Lemuel ! 


Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  P.  D 
fieiiteen,  Baltimore. 


Oh !  Lemuel,  my  lark, 

Oh !  Lemuel,  my  beau,  t 

I 's  going  to  give  a  ball  to-night, 

I'd  have  you  for  to  know; 
But  if  you  want  to  dance, 

Just  dance  outside  the  door; 
Because  your  feet  -so  very  large, 

They  '11  cover  all  the  floor. 
Oh !  Lena !   Lem !  Lem  !  Lemuel,   I  say, 
Go  down  to  the  cotton-field,  and  bring  the  boys  away. 

Chorus.  Go  down  to  the  cotton-field, 

Go  down,  I  say ! 

Go  down  and  call  the  darkie  boys  all : 
We  '11  work  no  more  to-day. 

Oh  !  Lemuel,  my  hope, 

Oh!   Lemuel,  my  joy, 
I'll  tell  you  who'll  be  at  the  ball, 

My  woolly-headed  boy. 
There 's  Nelly  Bly,  you  know, 

And  Juliana  Snow ; 
There 's  Cane-brake  Kitty  likes  the  boys, 

And  she  '11  be  sure  to  go. 
Oh !  Lem !  Lem !   Lem !  Lemuel,  I  say, 
Go  down  to  the  cotton-field,  and  bring  the  boys  awaj 

Chorus.  Go  down  to  the  cotton-field,   &c. 

Oh !  Lemuel  is  tall, 

Oh !  Lemuel  is  fair, 
Oh !  Lemuel  has  gone  to-day 

To  tak«  the  morning  air. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  15 

He  makes  the  fiddle  hum, 

He  makes  the  banjo  turn, 
He  rattles  on  the  old  jaw-bone, 

And  beats  upon  the  drum. 
Oh !  Lem !  Lern  !  Lem !  Lemuel,  I  say, 
Go  down  to  the  cotton-field,  and  bring  the  boys  away 

Chorus.  Go  down  to  the  cotton-field,  £c. 


Hither  We  Come. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Vandjr- 
beek,  New  York. 

"  Hither  we  come  at  old  Massa's  will;" 

And  whether  in  the    cane-brake,  in  cotton  field,  or 

'mongst  the  corn, 

Our  labour  we  forsake  at  sound  of  Massa's  horn. 
"  Hither  we  go,  his  wish  to  fulfil." 

Keep  silence,  darkies,  and  attention  pay,  to  what  I 

have  to  say, 
And  thank  your  kind  old  Massa,  for  to-day  he  give 

you  a  holiday. 
Laugh  and  be  gay,  the  bones  and  fiddle  play  upon 

the  green, 
And,  Massa  Pompey,  mind  your  tamborine. 

Chortts. 

Long  live  old  Massa,  from  him  ne'er  we  '11  part, 
Pride  of  this  darkey's  heart. 
Long  we  '11  remain  to  tote  in  the  grain, 
Hoe  the  corn  night  and  morn,  and  work  away  so  smart. 

Your   labour   ended,    and   with  joy   your   harmless 

revels  see, 
For  grateful  hearts,  inspir'd  by  mirth,  true  pleasure 

give  to  me. 

Then  happy  be  along  with  me  until  the  hours  of  rest, 
At  break   of  day  we  must   away,  till  sun  is  in  the 

west — 

Your  sports  are  ended. 


16  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES, 

Farewell,  My  Lilly  Dear. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh !  Lilly  dear,  it  grieves  me, 

The  tale  I  have  to  tell; 
Old  Massa  sent  me  roaming, 

So  Lilly,  fare  you  well! 
Oh !  fare  you  well,  my  true  love, 

Farewell  old  Tennessee, 
Then  let  me  weep  for  you,  love, 

But  do  not  weep  for  me. 

Chorus.  Farewell  for  ever  to  old  Tennessee, 

Farewell,  my  Lilly  dear,  don't  weep  for  me. 

I 's  going  to  roam  the  wide  world 

In  lands  I've  never  hoed, 
With  nothing  but  my  banjo 

To  cheer  me  on  the  road ; 
And  when  I'm  sad  and  weary 

I'll  make  the  banjo  play, 
To  'mind  me  of  my  true  love 

When  I  am  far  away. 

Chorus.  Farewell  for  ever,  &c. 

I  wake  up  in  the  morning, 

And  walk  out  on  the  farm; 
Oh!  Lilly  am  a  darling — 

She  take  me  by  the  arm. 
We  wander  through  the  clover 

Down  by  the  river  side, 
I  tell  her  that  I  love  her, 

And  she  must  be  my  bride. 

Chorus.  Farewell  for  ever,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S   PLANTATION    MELODIES,  17 

Oh!  Lilly  dear,   'tis  mournful 

To  leave  you  here  alone ; 
You  '11  smile  before  I  leave  you, 

And  weep  when  I  am  gone. 
The  sun  can  never  shine,  love, 

So  bright  for  you  and  me, 
As  when  I  worked  beside  you 

In  good  old  Tennessee. 

Chorus.  Farewell  for  ever,  &c. 


Ding,  Dong!  or.  The  Darkies'  Wedding. 

The  bells  ring  out,  and  many  a  shout  is  ringing  in 

the  air, 
For  Rosa  May  and  Sam  to-day  are  made  a  happy 

pair. 
The  two  are  one,  so  now  for  fun,  let 's  dance  and  sing 

with  glee, 
And  cheer  the  scene  with  tamborine,  and  bones  right 

merrily. 

Chorus. 

Ding,  dong!  skip  along,  the  overseer  has  gone, 
And    Massa  's   here   himself  to   cheer,   the    darkies' 
wedding  morn. 

The  dance  begin — look  out  for  shins  —  here  cornea 

the  bride  and  groom  ; 
How  swift  they  bound  at  music's  sound — stand  back 

and  give  them  room  ; 
Just  watch  the  bride,  and  see  what  pride,  that  kindles 

in  her  eye, 
When  all  in  vain  Belinda  Jane  attempts  to  pass  her  by 

Chorus.  Ding,  dong,  &c. 
2* 


18  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

The  dance  is  done,  and  ev'ry  one  is  hungry  as  a  horse, 

And  soon  is  seen  upon  the  green  a  jolly  spread,  of 
course. 

They  drink  and  eat,  and  songs  repeat,  till  near  the 
close  of  day ; 

Then  satisfied,  they  kiss  the  bride,  and  tear  them 
selves  away. 

Chorus.  Ding,  dong,  &c. 


Julius's  Trip  to  the  World's  Fair. 

Music,  with   Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
and  Son,  New  York. 

Twelve  months  ago  I  left  this  place,— 

I  went  out  in  the  Arctic ; 
Ten  days  upon  the  ocean  wave 

Brought  feelings  quite  cathartic : 
I  'rived  in  London  one  fine  morn, 

And  soon  put  on  my  best, 
Then  filed  into  the  Crystal  Show, 

With  a  "member  of  the  Press!" 

Chorus.  Listen  now,  darkies  0, 

And  hear  of  sights  so  rare, 
For  "Julius"  here  is  all  the  go, 

Since  he  came  from  the  great  "  World's 
Fair." 

I  mingle  with  the  quality, 

And  feel  most  awful  proud ; 
But  a  cry  soon  stop  my  jollity, — 

"There's  'Julius'  in  the  crowd!" 
Prince  Albert  take  me  by  the  arm, 

And  ask  in  gentle  tones, 
'  To  condescend  to  pleajse  the  "Ton" 

With  a  solo  on  the  bones. 

Chorus.  Listen  now,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  19 

I  spread  myself  upon  the  stage 

Without  much  hesitation, 
As  racing  then  was  all  the  rage, 

I  play  the  "Imitation." 
The  "  Jockey  Club"  soon  make  their  bets, 

As  the  second  heat  I  play ; 
The  odds  were  on  the  "Bob-tail  Nag," 

For  nowhere  was  the  "Bay." 

Chorus.  Listen  now,  &c. 

I  left  the  "Palace"  late  that  night, 

And  packed  my  things  with  haste, 
Then  wandered  on  to  the  "  Isle  of  Wight," 

To  be  at  the  great  Yacht  race ; 
My  finances  were  not  hard  run, 

Our  friend  there  pay  the  shot, 
He  back'd  the  "  Royal  Squadron,"  and 

I  bet  on  the  "  Yankee  Yacht." 

Chorus.  Listen .,now,  £c. 


Good  Old  Dinah. 

Old  Dinah,  she  is  dead  and  gone, 

Old  Massa's  kitchen  slave ; 
The  darkies  all  their  work  have  done 

And  follow'd  to  her  grave ; 
For  Dinah  was  as  good  a  girl 

As  ever  boiled  the  corn, 
And  from  the  hut  each  day  she  came 

To  blow  the  dinner  horn. 

}ho*us.  But  now,  since  she  is  dead  and  gone, 

This  darkey's  joy  is  done ; 
No  longer  we'll  sing,  or  the  banjo  ring. 
Or  strike  the  old  jawbone. 


20  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES, 

Of  a  long  Bummer's  night, 

When  the  moon  shone  bright, 
To  the  woods  we  'd  go  so  soon ; 

Our  steps  were  light,  in  the  snow  so  white, 
To  hunt  for  the  possum  and  the  coon. 

And  when  the  day  began  to  break, 
These  dar&es  soon  would  find ; 

Then  home  again  our  tracks  we'd  make, 
At  the  call  of  good  old  Dine. 

Chorus.  But  now,  since  she  is  dead,  &e. 

Of  a  long  summer's  day,  while  mowing  the  hay, 

The  dinner  time  would  come; 
'T  was  then  we  'd  bless  that  good  old  girl 

While  the  dinner  horn  would  hum. 
Our  work  we  'd  stop,  our  rakes  we  'd  drop, 

And  to  the  hut  repair, 
For  Dinah,  with  our  dinner  hot, 

For  us  was  waiting  there. 

Chorus.  But  now,  since  she  is  dead,  &c. 


Uncle  Tom's  Gone  to  Rest. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.j  New  York. 

Uncle  Tom  's  gone  to  rest,  let  us  pray  for  his  soul ; 
He  will  answer  no  more  to  the  call  of  the  roll. 
When  the  horn  wakes  us  up,  to  the  fields  we  repair, 
With  a  sigh  for  poor  Tom,  who  is  now  past  all  care  ; 
We  shall  miss  his  kind  hand  when  the  sickness  comes 

on, 

In  the  winter's  long  evenings  we'll  think  of  his  song. 
His  children  are  weeping ;   Aunt  Chloe's  heart  sore, 
Can  but  pray  that  he 's  gone 'where  his  troubles  are 

o'er. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  21 

Chorus. 

Uncle  Tom 's  gone  to  rest,  let  us  pray  for  his  soul, 
He  will  answer  no  more  to  the  call  of  the  roll. 
When  the  horn  wakes  us  up,  to  the  fields  we  repair, 
With  a  sigh  for  poor  Tom,  who  is  now  past  all  care. 

When  he  went  down  the  river,  he  thought  of  us  then, 
And  he  fondly  believed  he  should  meet  us  again ; 
For  he  met  there  a  spirit,  so  pure  and  so  bright, 
He  thought  her,  and  found  her,  an  angel  of  light ; 
But  sorrow's  dark  pathway  he  lived  still  to  trace, 
For  sweet  Eva  died,  in  whose  angelic  face 
He  saw  hope  and  comfort,  both  here  and  above ; 
What  else  could  she  be,  whose  existence  was  love  ? 

Chorus.  Uncle  Tom 's  gone  to  rest,  &c. 

Tom's  joy  turned  to  sorrow,  now  see  him  once  more 
In  the  pestilent  swamp,  his  hard  fate  to  deplore ; 
Still  patient  and  humble,  and  willing  to  lend 
His  best  efforts  to  her,  whom  stern  fate  made   his 

friend ; 
But  his  days  are  now  numbered,  poor  Chloe's  hard 

gains 

Will  never  avail  him  ;  his  perils  and  pains 
Drawing  now  to  their  close,  the  good  Book  his  sole 

cheer, 
They  may  die  in  good  hope,  who  can  die  like  Tom  here. 

Chorus.  Uncle  Tom 's  gone  to  rest,  &c. 


Old  Ned. 

Do  n't  you  remember  our  master,  Old  Ned, 

Our  master,  whose  heart,  was  so  true  ? 
We  loved  him  so  dearly,  and  did  all  he  said, 

And  he  loved  us  as  few  masters  do. 
Alas  !  he  now  lies  in  his  grave,  Old  Ned, 

And  the  grass  sighs  over  his  tomb ; 
But  brightly  the  roses  bloom  over  his  head, 

Whilst  our  hearts  are  saddened  with  gloom. 


22  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Oh !  do  n't  you  remember  the  hounds,  Old  Ned, 

And  how,  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
We  ofttimes  have  chased,  when  the  rest  were  in  bed, 

In  pursuit  of  the  sweet-meated  coon  ? 
The  coon-dogs  are  all  of  them  gone,  Old  Ned, 

Save  one  poor,  blind,  lonely  cur; 
He  sleeps  all  the  day  on  his  bed  of  straw, 

So  old  that  he  scarcely  can  stir. 
« 
Oh  !  don't  you  remember — you  do,  Old  Ned, 

Though  your  hairs  are  white  as  the  snow — 
The  day  when  our  kind-hearted  mistress  was  wed 

To  her  lover,  a  handsome  young  beau  ? 
Delighted  our  master's  heart  was,  Old  Ned, 

As  he  press'd  to  his  bosom  her  form ; 
Whilst  the  tears  rolled  down  on  the  young  child's  head 

From  their  fountain  so  full  and  so  warm. 

Well  we  remember  the  blessings  that  fell 

On  the  heads  of  that  happy  young  pair, 
When  the  parson  pronounced  them  to  be  man  and 
wife, 

And  feelingly  poured  forth  a  prayer ; 
But  alas  !  our  mistress  is  gone,  Old  Ned, 

Her  spirit  and  master's  have  flown, 
And  I  have  no  friend  to  care  for  me  now, 

But  you,  Ned,  save  you,  Ned,  alone. 


The  Old  Corn  Mill. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Roddon 
and  Stewart,  Philadelphia. 

The  home  of  my  childhood,  that  dearly-loved  spot, 
Where  the  yellow  corn  is  growing  round  my  father's 

old  cot, 
There   many  happy  days   I   spent,  I  yet  remember 

well, 
With  my  kind  old  mother,  by  the  old  corn  mill. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  23 

Chorus. 

Then  hurry  me  home  to  the  old  corn  mill, 
To  my  father's  old  cot,  on  the  top  of  the  hill ; 
For  I  am  getting  weary,  and  not  afraid  to  die ; 
Oh  lay  me  side  my  mother,  in  the  ground  where  Katy 
lie. 

Full  well  I  remember  how,  with  boyish  delight, 

We  met  round  the  pine-knot  fires  at  the  night ; 

I  love  to  see  the  old  corn  mill,  and  watch  the  wheel 

go  round ; 
I  love  my  good  old  mother,  in  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

Chorus.  Then  hurry  me  home,  &c. 

Oh !  for  that  old  corn  mill,  to  memory  dear ! 

I  would  eat  the  bright  corn-cake  with  inerry  good 

cheer, 

But  the  old  corn  mill  it  is  passing  away, 
And  the  crazy  old  wheel  is  gone  to  decay. 

Chorus.  Then  hurry  me  home,  &c. 

And  Katy  I  loved,  her  grave  is  so  cold ; 

The  old  folks  are  dead,  and  the  young  are  growing 

old; 

Them  happy  days  are  over,  free  from  sorrow  and  ill, 
When  we  all  lived  at  home,  by  the  old  corn  mill. 

Chorus.  Then  hurry  me  home,  £c. 


Katy  Darling. 

Music,  with  Piano   Forte  accompaniment,  published   by  JIall 
and  Son,  New  York. 

Oh,  they  tell  me  thou  art  dead,  Katy  Darling, 
That  thy  smile  I  may  never  more  behold ; 

Did  they  tell  thee  I  was  false,  Katy  Darling, 
Or  my  love  for  thee  had  e'er  grown  cold  ? 


24  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Oh,  they  know  not  the  loving  of  the  heart  that  beata 
for  thee, 

When  a  love  like  to  thine,  Katy  Darling, 
Is  the  goal  to  the  race  set  for  me. 

Oh,  hear  me,  sweet  Katy, 
For  the  wild  flowers  greet  me,  Katy  Darling, 

And  the  love-birds  are  singing  in  each  tree  ;• 
Wilt  thou  never  more  hear  me,  Katy  Darling  ? 

Behold  love,  I  'm  waiting  for  thee ! 


I  'm  kneeling  by  thy  grave,  Katy  Darling ; 

This  world  is  all  a  bleak  world  to  me ; 
Oh,  couldst  thou  hear  my  wailing,  Katy  Darling, 

Or  think  love,  I  'm  sighing  for  thee ; 
Oh,  methinks  the  stars  are  weeping, 

By  their  soft  and  lambent  light, 
And  thy  heart  would  be  melting,  Katy  Darling, 

Couldst  thou  see  tjiy  lone  Dermot  this  night. 
Oh,  listen,  sweet  Katy, 

For  the  wild  flowers  are  sleeping,  Katy  Darling, 
And  the  love-birds  are  nestling  in  each  tree ; — 

Wilt  thou  never  more  hear  me,  Katy  Darling, 
Or  know  love,  I  'm  kneeling  by  thee  ? 


'T  is  useless  all  my  weeping,  Katy  Darling, 

But  I  '11  pray  that  thy  spirit  be  my  guide, 
And  that  when  my  life  be  spent,  Katy  Darling, 

They  will  lay  me  down  to  rest  by  thy  side  ; 
Oh,  a  huge  great  grief  I  'm  bearing, 

Though  I  scarce  can  heave  a  sigh, 
And  I  '11  ever  be  dreaming,  Katy  Darling, 

Of  thy  love  ev'ry  day  till  I  die. 
Farewell  then,  sweet  Katy  ; 

For  the  wild  flowers  will  blossom,  Katy  Darling, 
And  the  love-birds  will  warble  in  each  tree ; 

But  in  heaven  I  will  meet  thee,  Katy  Darling, 
For  there,  Love,  thou'rt  waiting  for  me ! 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  25 


'Tilda  Horn. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte   accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
and  Son,  New  York. 

I  was  raised  in  Mississippi,  where   the  sugar-cane 

grows  tall, 
And  I  loved  a  pretty  yellow  girl,  much  sweeter  tbaa 

them  all. 
She  left  the  place  one  moonlight  night — we  sorrowM 

much  to  part; 
No  token  did  she  leave  me,  but  her  picture  on  iny 

heart. 
And  I  moan,  and  I  groan,  all  alone,  all  alone. 

Chorus. 

But  fretting  won't  do  for  a  darkie  of  this  figure — 
Time  enough  for  that  when  he  gets  a  little  bigger ; 
Dancing  with  the  yellow  girls,  and  shucking  out  the 

corn, 
Will  make  him  forget  'Tilda  Horn. 

While  ago  I  got  a  letter  from  her,  thinking,  as  I  sat, 
If  I  met  her,  how  she'd  like  me,  in  my  stylish  Kossuth 

hat. 
'Twas  the  last  I  heard  about  her,  and  since  then  I'm 

much  in  dread 
That  she's  married  to  another  man,  or  else  she  must 

"  gone  dead." 
In  despair,  I  declare  I  is  crack'd,  that's  a  fact. 

Chorus.  But  fretting  won't  do,  &c. 

Now  I  go  about,  down  in  the  mouth,  and  stockings 

down  at  heel ; 
Like  Massa  Shal^speare's  Hamlet,  too,  I'm  touch'd  up 

here  I  feel. 
His  uncle  gave  him  good  advice — mine  took  my  clothes 

in  pawn ; 

And  all  to  raise  the  cash  to  dress — deceitful  'Tilda  Horn. 
Oh !  this  wool  I  could  pull,  this  poor  heart  is  so  full, 

Chorus.  But  fretting  won't  do,  &c. 


26  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Since  the  Shakspeare's  coming  in  iny  head,  I'm  lik«* 

Othello,  too, 
The  victim  of  my  jealous  fears,  I  don't  know  what 

to  do ; 
Desdemona  lost  his  handkerchief — that  wasn't  much 

to  lose ; 
But  'Tilda  took  my  'baeca-box,  my  shirts  and  Sunday 

shoes. 
Now  I  stray  all  the  day,  from  the  gay  far  away. 

Chorus.  But  fretting  won't  do,  £c. 


Come,  Darkies,  Come. 


Music,  with   Piano   Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Hal 
and  Son,  New  York. 


Come,  darkies,  come,  'tis  the  hour  for  pleasure ; 
Let  mirth  prevail  then,  without  measure ; 
And  while  old  Time  on  restless  wing 
Does  fly,  oh,  we  will  gaily  sing — 

Chorus. 

A  merry  merry  song ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
We  will  prolong ;  -Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
Till  the  break  of  day  ;   Tral  lal  li-e-o . 
Calls  us  away,  away ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
Come,  darkies,  come,  'tis  the  time  for  fun; 
What  sport  we'll  have,  when  our  work  is  done. 
Oh,  who  in  this  big  world  of  strife 
That  envies  the  poor  darkies'  life ! 

Come,  Pompey,  come,  and  bring  your  tambo, 
And  Julius  too,  with  bones  and  banjo. 
While  Sambo  tunes  up  his  violin, 
For  to  have  a  dance  upon  the  green-— 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES,  27 

Chorus. 

With  the  girls  so  gay ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o ! 
We  will  sing  away  ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
Till  old  Massa's  horn  ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o ! 
Tell  us  'tis  morn,  'tis  morn ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o ! 
Come,  darkies,  come,  &c. 

To  the  huts  again  ourselves  we'll  take, 
To  breakfast  on  the  good  hoe-cake ; 
And  before  old  Sol  peeps  o'er  the  hills, 
You'll  find  us  in  our  Massa's  fields — 

Chorus. 

With  the  scythe  and  hoe  ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
Away  we'll  go  ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
To  work  so  gay  ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o  ! 
Till  another  holiday,  holiday ;  Tral  lal  li-e-o ! 
Come,  darkies,  come,  &c. 


Hush-a-bye5  Baby. 

JHusic,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

When  but  a  little  fellow,  I'd  nothing  else  to  do 

But  run  about  on  errands,  and  black  young  Massa's 

shoe. 
The   case  is  very  different  now;    I  has  to  hoe  and 

rake, 
With  scarcely  time,  o'  mornings,  to  eat  my  corn-rs^a! 

cake. 

Chorus. 

But  I  dig,  dig,  dig,  dig,  dig  a-dig, 

Dig  all  the  livelong  day ; 

The  worst  of  all  troubles,  to  a  darkie  is  to  dig, 

Though  he  aint  troubled,  much  with  the  pay. 


28  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Old  Missus  tried  persuading,  and  old  Massa  he  did 

fret, 

Because  young  Massa  was  away,  accumulating  debt ; 
Old  Massa  sent  a  letter  to  young  Massa,  with  advice 
For  the  future  to  do  better,  and  to  marry  something 

nice. 

Chorus.  But  I  dig.  dig,  £c. 

So  my  young  Massa  Harry  kinder  sorter  shook  his  head, 
K evolved  at  once  to  majry,  as  he  ought  to,  so  he  said  ; 
And  he  found  a  planter's  daughter,  very  pretty,  rich 

and  tall, 
Went  right  away  to  court  her;    pleased  the  lady, 

friends  and  all. 

Chorus.  But  I  dig,  dig,  &c. 

The  summer  had  departed,  and  gone  where  all  the 

flowers  ; 
Cold  autumn  had  arrived,  with  all  its  misty,  moisty 

showers, 
When  home  came  my  young  Massa,  with  a  very  sweet 

young  bride, 
Far  sweeter  than  the  honeycomb,  without  a  bit  of 

pride. 

Chorus.  But  I  dig,  dig,  &c. 

With  old  familiar  faces,  young  Massa  stay'd  at  home, 
Never  went  to  balls  or  races,  never  felt  inclined  to 

roam ; 
At  last  there  came  a  little  child,  in  the  rosy  month  of 

June, 
And  the  old  folks,  and  the  young  folks,  all  began  this 

self-same  tune. 

Chorus. 

Hush-a-bye,  baby,  upon  the  tree-top, 
When  the  wind  blows,  the  cradle  will  rock ; 
When  the  bough  bends,  the  cradle  will  fall,-— 
Down  comes  rock-a-bye,  cradle  and  all. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  29 


The  Belle  of  Winyaw  Bay. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  b>  Hall 

and  Son,  New  York. 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly 
Upon  the  old  corn-field ; 
The  darkies  there  tripp'd  lightly 
The  old  Virginia  reel ; 
The  darkies  was  a  dancing 
With  step  so  light  and  gay, 
When  came  the  lovely  Dinah, 
The  Belle  of  Winyaw  Bay. 

Chorus.  The  darkies  was  a  dancing 
With  step  so  light  and  gay, 
When  came  the  lovely  Dinah, 
The  Belle  of  Winayw  Bay. 

She  gave  one  look  of  pleasure 
Upon  that  happy  scene, 
Then  joined  in  troniping  measure 
To  the  sound  of  the  tamborine; 
And  when  the  tired  darkies 
For  any  thing  did  pray, 
'Twas  for  the  lovely  Dinah, 
The  Belle  of  Winyaw  Bay. 

Chorus.  And  when  the  tired  darkies,  &e. 

Then  she  did  give  them  water 
To  cool  the  darkies'  throats, 
And  then  she  caper'd  gaily 
To  the  banjo's  mellow  notes: 
And  when  the  old  horn  sounded 
Just  at  the  break  of  day, 
They  bless  the  lovely  Dinah, 
The  Belle  of  Winyaw  Bay. 

Chorus.  Andi^when  the  old  horn  sounded,  &c. 
3* 


30  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Though  TV  ell  she  loved  old  Maesa, 
And  prayed  that  he  might  live, 
Yet  when  there  was  a  dancing 
She  had  a  foot  to  give ; 
Then  here's  to  that  sweet  beauty 
That  stole  my  heart  away, 
The  black-eyed  girl,  sweet  Dinah, 
The  Belle  of  Winyaw  Bay. 

Chorus.  Then  here's  to  that  sweet  beauty,  &c. 


Poor  Foolish  Joe. 

Now  Rosa's  gone,  her  soul  has  fled, 

U-li  o-li  a-li  ee! 
To  that  peaceful  home  made  for  the  dead. 

U-li  o-li  a-li  ee ! 
Upon  the  bed  her  body  lies, 
Joe  kneeling  down,  with  weeping  eyes; 
Her  friends  around  the  bed  do  go, 
And  whisper,   "Don't  be  foolish,  Joe." 

U-li  o-li  a-li  ee  ! 

Chorus.  He  courted  Rose  in  Tennessee, 

U-li  o-li  a-li  ee ! 

'Neath  that  old  familiar  tree. 

U-li  o-li  a-li  ee  ! 

Next  day  they  buried  Rosa  Lee, 

U-li,  &c. 
It  was  a  sorry  sight  to  see ; 

U-li,  &c. 

Joe  took  his  last  cold  kiss  of  love — 
Dear  Rosa,   we  shall  meet  above ; 
His  mind  gave  way  beneath  the  blow, 
He  then  indeed,  was  "  Foolish  Joe." 

U-li,  &c. 

Chorus.  He  courted  Rose,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  31 

Joe's  manly  form  began  to  waste; 

U-li,  &o. 
He  wander'd  up  and  down  in  haste; 

U-li,  &c. 

He  look'd  with  vacant  stare  around, 
Then  threw  himself  upon  the  ground ; 
He  thought  he  heard  a  voice  so  low, 
That  whisper'd,   "  Don't  be  foolish,  Joe." 

U-li,  &c. 

Chorus.  He  courted  Rose,  &e. 

He  wander'd  many  a  day  and  night, 

U-li,   &c. 
To  the  spot  where  they  first  love  did  plight  ; 

U-li,  &c. 

He  sat  beneath  that  good  old  tree, 
Where  Rosa  sat  beside  his  knee, 
And  as  the  gentle  breeze  did  blow, 
He  thought  he  heard  that  "  Foolish  Joe." 

U-li,  &o. 

Chorus.  He  courted  Rose,  &c. 

Two  days  from  that,  a  passer-by, 

U-li,  &c. 
Saw  the  form  of  poor  Joe  lie ; 

U-li,   &c. 

He  could  not  from  his  Rosa  part, 
It  was  too  much — it  broke  his  heart. 
The  slaves,  as  by  that  tree  do  go, 
Pause  and  weep  for  faithful  Joe. 

U-li,  &c. 

Chorus.  Joe,  too,  sleeps  in  Tennessee, 

U-li,  &c. 

'Neath  that  old  familiar  tree. 
U-li,  &o. 


32  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Poor  Old  Joe. 

Ob,  where' s  that  old  grey  darkey  gohe,  that  used  to 

work  the  hoe, 

In  Massa's  field  to  till  the  ground,  long  time  ago  ? 
You  ask  us  where  that  darkey's  gone,  that  good  old 

darkey,  Joe — 
He's  gone  to  see  the  elephant,  down,  down  below. 

Chorus. 

Poor  old  Joe,  he  used  to  work  the  hoe  and  play  the 
old  banjo, 

Long  time  ago  ! 

He  had  no  teeth,  and  he  was  blind ;  his  wool  was 

white  as  snow ; 

But  Massa  to  old  Joe  was  kind,  long  time  ago. 
He  used  to  fish  for  frogs   and  eels,  that   good   old 

darkey  Joe, 
'Till  grim  death  took  him  by  the  heels,  down,  down 

below. 

Chorus.  Poor  old  Joe,  &c. 

He  used  to  chalk  the  numbers  down,  and  keep  his 

years  just  so  ; 

His  age  it  was  a  hundred  and  forty,  long  time  ago ; 
But  death  has   caught  old  Joe  at  last,  tho'  he  was 

loath  to  go  ; 
He's  in  the  corn-field  sleeping  fast,  down,  down  below. 

Chorus.  Poor  old  Joe,  £c. 


The  Rose  of  Baltimore. 

'Twas  on  a  public  promenade, 
One  bright  October  morn, 

I  saw  a  sweet  and  lovely  maid 
On  the  tide  of  fashion  born& 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  33 

Her  lips  were  like  a  cherry 

Just  blushing  on  the  tree  ; 
Her  voice,   oh !  it  was  merry 

As  fairies'  song  at  sea. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  a  lovelier  maid  I  never  saw  before  ; 
With  eyes  so  bright, 
Like  stars  at  night, 
The  Rose  of  Baltimore. 

I've  roved  o'er  many  a  billow, 

Like  a  tameless  mountain-child  ; 
I've  made  the  rock  my  pillow, 

In  the  Arab  desert  wild : 
I've  slept  in  the  Peri's  bower, 

On  Persia's  dreamy  shore, 
But  I  never  found  a  flower, 

Like  the  Rose  of  Baltimore. 

Chorus.  Oh !  a  lovelier  maid,  &c. 

One  night,  when  I  was  dreaming, 

('Twas  a  dark  and  stormy  night,) 
Her  form,  like  moonlight  gleaming, 

Burst  on  my  vision  bright. 
I  told  her  of  my  passion  deep, 

I  tried  to  tell  her  more ; 
But  soon  she  vanished  in  my  sleep — 

The  Rose  of  Baltimore. 

Chorus.  Oh !  a  lovelier  maid,  &c. 

I  often  roam  through  Market  Street, 

As  I  have  roamed  before, 
But  now,  alas !  I  never  meet 

The  Rose  of  Baltimore. 
'Tis  true  that  there  bright  eyes  still  beam, 

With  Cupid's  magic  lore, 
But  my  heart  is  with  its  early  dream, 

The  Rose  of  Baltimore. 

Chorus.  Oh!  a  lovelier  maid,  &c. 


34  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


The  Dark'  Who  "  Totes  "  the  Target. 

You  may  talk  about  the  heroes  great, 

That  die  for  fun  and  glory — 
About  the  'lustrious  names  that  blaze 

In  ancient  song  and  story ; — 
There's  none  of  them  can  shine  with  him, 

Who,  ev'ry  'casion  suiting — 
The  dark'  who  totes  the  target 

When  the  boys  go  out  a-shooting. 

Chorus.  They  comqp  together, 

With  sword  and  feather, 

With  trumpets,  drums,  and  hooting, 
And  with  the  mark 
Brings  up  the  dark', 

When  they  go  out  a-shooting. 

0,  Pompus  Cossar  he  is  some 

W7hen,  in  the  fixings  decked,  sir, 
With  martial  tread  he  walks  along — 

Eyes  right,  and  head  erect,  sir. 
The  coloured  girls  all  wink  at  him, 

Their  fancy  always  suiting— 
The  dark'  who  totes  the  target 

When  the  boys  go  out  a-shooting. 

Chorus.  They  come  together,  &c. 

And  if  the  foe  should  dare  invade 

Again,  our  peaceful  shore,  sir, 
You'll  find  the  boys  will  muster  strong 

And  beat  them  as  before,  sir; 
And  rushing  for  the  glory,  too, 

The  dark',  all  'casions  suiting, 
Who  bears  aloft  the  bull's-eye 

When  the  boys  go  out  a-shooting. 

Chorus.  They  come  together,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  35 


The  Old  I,og  Hut  at  Home. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &,  Co.,  New  York. 

Down  by  the  river  our  log  hut  stands, 

Where  father  and  mother  once  dwelt, 

And  the  old  door-latch  that  was  worn  by  our  hands, 

And  the  church  where  in  prayer  we  knelt ; 

Years,  years  have  pass'd  since  that  happy  time, 

But  the  river  keeps  rolling  along, 

And  rippling  sound  on  the  mossy  bank, 

Is  singing  the  same  old  song. 

Chorus.  Row,  row,  row  your  boat 
Gently  down  the  stream, 
All  that  is  past  is  gone,  you  know, 
The  future  but  a  dream. 

There  stands  the  tree  we  used  to  climb, 

And  the  mill  with  its  rolling  din, 

And  the  old  wharf-boat  there  it  used  to  float 

Where  the  school-boys  used  to  swim. 

High  grass  grows  on  the  master's  grave, 

And  the  river  keeps  rolling  along, 

And  the  birds  and  the  bees,  the  blossoms,  the  trees, 

Are  singing  the  same  old  song. 

Chorus.  Row,  row,  row  your  boat,  £c. 


Aunt  Dinah  Roe. 

0,  well  I  remember  old  Aunt  Dinah  Roe — 
Her  eye  dim  with  age,  and  her  wool  like  the  snow— 
The  lived  in  a  hut  near  the  river  Pee  Dee, 
And  more  than  a  mother  was  Dinah  to  me ; 
For  she  was  the  first  one  to  learn  me  a  tune — 
The  first  one  that  taught  me  to  trap  the  old  coon— 
And  long  as  the  blood  in  this  body  shall  now, 
I'll  'member  with  gratitude  Aunt  Dinah  R,oe. 


36  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

She  was  good  to  the  poor  darkey — loving  and  mild — 
She'd  joke  with  the  old  folks  or  play  with  a  chi  (} — 
She'd  frown  at  the  wrong  act,  but  smile  at  the  right, 
And  every  one  loved  her,  the  black  and  the  white ; 
And  often,  when  smoking  her  pipe  at  the  door, 
The  birds  would  fly  in  and  hop  over  the  floor ; 
For  they  knew,  though  they  saw  the  old  cat  on  the 

chair, 
That  puss  couldn't  hurt  them,  for  Dinah  was  there. 

She'd  sigh  with  the  sorrowing — laugh  with  the  gay — 
Tend  on  the  sick-bed,  or  join  in  the  play — 
The  first  at  a  funeral,  wedding,  or  birth — 
The  killer  of  trouble  or  maker  of  mirth. 
She  spoke  her  mind  freely — was  plain  as  the  day — 
But  never  hurt  any  by  what  she  might  say. 
If  she  once  made  a  promise,  it  never  was  broke, 
And  her  friends  would  all  swear  to  what  Dinah  had 
spoke. 

One  beautiful  morning,  at  break  of  the  day, 
I  stopped  at  the  old  hut,  when  passing  that  way — 
I  opened  the  door — what  an  object  was  there  ! — 
My  dear  old  Aunt  Dinah  was  dead  in  her  chair ! 
We  buried  her  under  an  old  willow  tree, 
"Where  many  a  time  she  had  froliced  with  me. 
Even  Massa  wept  for  her,  though  she  was  his  slave ; 
And  Towser,  her  faithful  dog,  died  on  her  grave. 


Night  Funeral  of  a  Slave. 

In  the  bright  sunny  South,  at  the  close  of  the  day, 

To  the  mansion  there  came  a  grief-stricken  slaye— - 
"  The  coffin  is  there,  and  the  people  all  say, 

That  master  must   come  before  he  goes   to   tha 

grave." 
"  It  was  my  poor  John,"  the  good  master  replied ; 

"A  servant  more  faithful  there  never  could  be, 
For  all  his  life  long,  till  the  day  that  he  died, 

No  friend  could  be  truer  than  John  was  to  me. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  37 

A  Christian  more  humble  there's  not  in  the  land . 

A  heart  that  was  kinder  to  man  was  ne'er  given ; 
I  stood  by  his  death-bed,  and  took  his  .cold  hand — 

The   last  words   he  spoke  were,  « 0,  meet  me  in 

Heaven.' " 
He  laid  his  soft  hand  on  that  cold,  icy  brow, 

And  dropped  on  the  pillow  a  warm,  manly  tear; 
Then  said,  "  If  like  him  we  would  try  to  live  now, 

In  death  we  should,  like  him,  have  nothing  to  fear."' 

They  came  to  the  funeral  from  plantations  round, 

To  bury  the  slave,  at  the  dead  hour  of  night  ; 
A  death-song  they  sang,  as  they  walked  to  the  ground, 

With  pine-torches  blazing,  to  give  them  their  light. 
They  let  him  down  gently,  in  the   grave  dark  and 
deep ; 

On  the  coffin  with  earth,  from  eyes  dark  and  dim, 
Fell  softly  the  warm  tears,  as  in  love  they  did  weep, 

Whilst  the  minister  prayed  they  might  all  die  like 
him. 


Pompey's  Grave. 

In  a  lone  cypress  swamp,  where  the  wild-roaring  bull 
frog 

The  echoes  awake  with  his  deep,  thrilling  tones- 
Old  Pornpey  lies  there,  and  the  plantation  watch-doj* 

A  requiem  howls  o'er  his  deep-sunken  bones. 

Chorus. 

Though  the  lightning-bugs  flash,  and  the  'skeeters  are 

singing, 
He  starts  not,  he  wakes  not,  he's  free  from  all 

pain; 

He  sleeps  his  last  sleep — he  is  quietly  grinning — 
He  never  shall  hunt  for  the  possum  again ! 
4 


38  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Ho !  ebony  shade,  where  now  are  the  nation 

Of  young  dark's  that  rushed,  when  thou  led'st  them 


on  ? 

All  mournful  they  gather  about  the  plantation, 
And  weep  for  the  old  dark'  departed  and  gone. 

Chorus.  Though  the  lightning-bugs  flash,  &c. 

Spiritless  Pompey  !  the  earth  cannot  bind  thee  ; 

For,  like  the  'coon-fire  that  goes  out  in  the  damp, 
So  thou  hast  gone  out,  leaving  nothing  behind  thee 

Save  thy  old  bones,  which  repose  in  the  swamp. 

Chorus.  Though  the  lightning-bugs  flash,  &c. 


Seraphina  Tell. 

Oh,  white  folks,  listen  unto  me,  I'll  tell  you  what  befell 
A  very  fair  young  coloured  girl,  named   Seraphina 

Tell; 
She  was  so  sweet  and  fancy,  her  eyes  they  were  so 

bright,  i 

You'd  think  there  was  a  new  full-moon,  when  she 

walked  out  at  night. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Seraphina  Tell !  Oh,  Seraphina  Tell  !4 
You  are  the  sweetest  coloured  girl 
That  in  this  town  does  dwell. 

I  took  her  to  the  ball  one  night,  she  was  the  raging 

belle, 

And  all  the  darkies  fell  in  love  with  Seraphina  Tell; 
She  danced  with  so  much  grace  and  ease,  and  turned 

upon  her  heel — 
One   darkey  laughed   himself  to  death,   to  see  her 

dance  a  reel. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Seraphina,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  39 

I  danced  with  her  till  morning's  light;    I   saw  its 

flashing  beam 
When  she  fell  fainting  in  my  arms — the  lovely  Sera- 

phine. 
I  asked  her  if  I'd  see  her  home — her  eyes  upon  me 

fell- 
She  said,   "  Dear  Sam,  of  course  you  can," — sweet 

Seraphina  Tell. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Seraphina,  &e. 

I   took  her  home   that  very  night,  she  never  more 

arose, 

But  down  into  the  cotton-field  her  body  there  repose ; 
And  now,  white  folks,  my  story's  done,  I  hope  it's 

pleased  you  well ; 
For  I  shall  never,  never  see,  my  Seraphina  Tell. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Seraphina,  &c. 


Sweep-oh  Refrain. 

Before  the  day  breaks,  with  my  brush  and  my  scraper, 
To  sweep  up  the  chimneys  along  I  now  totes,   A 

With  my  blanket  around  me  along  I  do  caper, 

My  voice  may  be  heard  with  the  mocking-bird's 
notes. 

Chorus.  Sweep  oh !  sweep  oh !  oh,  oh ! 

Oh !  oh  !  Rock  Susannah,  Santa  Anna,  aunt  Hannah, 
Mary  Tanna,  Biscianna,  with  old  Jemimianna, 
Come  down  and  open  the  door — ha !  ha 
Oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh! 

Chorus. 

With  tamborine  pounding,  and  banjo  loud  sounding, 
When  day's  work  am  done,  oh,  we  darkies  have  fun, 


40  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

As  through  the  streets  we  are  singing, 
Ever,  ever  happy,  ever  blithe  and  gay, 

To  old  Massa  money  bringing, 
A  little  keep,  ourselves  to  pay. 

With  my  cap  o'er  my  eyes  I  was  upwards  descending, 
And  loudly  I  sjngs  when  I  gets  to  the  top ; 

I  got  thinking  of  Rosa,  and  over  was  bending, 
When  I  fell  down  the  next  flue,  bang  into  a  dinner 
%pot. 

Chorus.  Sweep  oh!  sweep  oh!  oh,  oh! 

Oh !    oh !    Rock  Susanna,  Santa  Anna,  and   all  the 

other  Annas, 
Come  down,  and  don't  keep  a  poor  darkey  waiting  in 

the  cold — 
And  open*  the  door. 
Oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!  oh! 

Chorus.  With  tanyoorme  pounding,  £c. 


The  Darkey  Sleighing  Party. 

Jingle,  jingle,  clear  fy£  way, 

'Tis  the  merry,  merry  sleigh — 

Joyfully  we  glide  along,  .^ 

Only  listen  to  our  song. 

Over  the  bridge,  down  by  the  mill, 

Then  upset  upon  the  hill ; 

Set  'em  up,   the  sleigh-bells  ring, 

While  we  darkies  laugh  and  sing. 

Chorus. 

Jingle,  jingle,  jingle,  jingle,  jingle,  clear  the  way, 
'Tis  the  merry,  merry,  merry,  merry,  merry  sleigh- 
Go-a-long!  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  41 

Oh,  shall  we  go  a-sleighing,  a-sleighing,  a-sleighing  ? 
The  white  horse  shall  pull  us  o'er  the  snow-covered 

plain ; 

On  good  whiskey  punch,  cakes  and  sausages  regaling, 
Oh,  then  we  will  slope  to  our  homes  back  again. 

Chorus.  Jingle,  jingle,  &c. 

The  trees  of  the  forest,  sleigh-runners  shall  lend  us, 
With  an  acorn  cap,  and  an  oak-bark  shell ; 

With  coon -skins  to  warm  us,  and  bells  to  attend  us, 
0  merrily  we  glide  to  the  sound  of  the  bell. 

Chorus.  Jingle,  jingle,  &c. 

Jingle,  jingle,  on  we  go, 
Capes  and  bonnets  in  a  row; 
Ths  old  whip  snaps,  the  girls  all  funny, 
Hurry  up  that  peach  and  honey. 
See  the  old  horse  how  he  blows 
Like  a  steam-pipe  from  his  nose, 
And  the  boys  their  snow-balls  fling, 
As  the  merry  sleigh-bells  ring. 

Chorus.  Jingle,  jingle,  &c. 


Dinah's  Wedding  Day. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Vander- 
beek,  New  York. 

Huzza,  huzza,  the  day  has  come,  Miss  Dinah's  to  be 

married, 
Oh,  glad  am  I,  for  that's  a  fact,  for  very  long  she's 

tarried ; 
Bring  out  the  corn,  the  hoe-cake  too,  the  gumbo  and 

the  cream, 
And  don't  forget  the  wedding-cake,  on  which  each 

dark'  must  dream. 
4* 


42  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  For  we  will  dance  and  sing  all  night, 

Huzza,  huzza,  huzza,  huzza! 
And  play  the  banjo  till  daylight, 

Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
We'll  dance  and  sing,  like  any  thing, 
Huzza,  huzza,  huzza ! 

Oh,  Dinah's  the  prettiest  girl  that  ever  you  did  see, 
And  there  was  once  a  time,  she  throw'd  sheep's-eyes 

at  me ; 
But  now  those  days  are  past,  and  this  poor  child's 

forsaken — 
Alas  !  and  well-a-day : — You  Pomp,  fetch  back  that 

bacon ! 

Chorus.  For  we  will  dance  and  sing,  &c. 

Just  hear  that  darkey,  shut  up  that  there  mouth  : 
Wed  with  you  my  Dinah  dear,  my  Venus  from  the 

South  ? 

Come  let  us  dance  and  sing,  laugh  and  be  j  oily, 
Dinah,  that  sweetest  girl,  has  married  Cuff,  by  golly  I 

Chorus.  For  we  will  dance  and  sing,  &c. 


The  Darkey  Blackberry  ing  Party. 

Come,  darkies,  get  your  hats — darkies,  get  your  hats  ! 

Come  along,  and  never  tire 
Picking  of  the  fruit,  picking  of  the  fruit — 

But  be  careful  of  the  briar. 
Blackberries   growing,  growing !    darkies  fetch   the 

sack — 
When  they're  red  they're  always  green,  but  when 

they're  ripe  they're  black ! 
Oh,  darkies,  get  your  hats — darkies  get  your  hats  I 

Come  along,  and  never  tire 
Picking  of  the  fruit,  picking  of  the  fruit — 

But  be  careful  of  the  briar. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  43 

Oh,  how  they  tear  the  darkey's  hands, 
And  stick  into  their  tender  feet ;      i 
But  with  such  luscious-coloured  frui-t 

.The  pickles  come  along  with  the  sweet. 
Crows  around  us  flying,  only  listen  to  their  "  caw;" 
The  blackbird's  notes  replying,  bid  'em  hold  their 

under  jaw. 

Oh,  there  was  fun,  ha !  ha !  oh,  there  was  fun,  ha !  ha  ! 
The   darkies'   sides   now  shake.     Sambo,  just  look 

there  ! 
"  Why,  what  is  that  you  see  ?"     Why  don't  you  see 

the  snake  ? 

You  ought  to  see  us  run — you  ought  to  see  us  run ! 
The  blackberries  we  dropp'd  'em ;  the  darkies  run  so 

fast,  the  darkies  run  so  fast, 
That  the  devil  could  not  stop  'em.    Oh,  there  was  fun, 

ha !  ha  ! — oh  the  Lawks  ! 


We  run  a  mile  or  two,  we  run  a  mile  or  two,  before 

we  did  look  back ; 
Some  darkies  they  were  blue,  some  darkies  they  were 

blue, 
But  the  most  of  them  was  black.     Two  of  them  fell 

down  with  fright, 
Right  down  upon  the  field  ;  we  thought  that  one  of 

them  would  die, 

With  a  rush  of  blood  to  the  heel. 
We  felt  the  other's  pulse,  we  felt  the  other's  pulse — 

oh !  how  the  dark'  did  shake ; 
The  'casion  of  his  death,  the  'casion  of  his  death,  he 

was  troubled  with  a  snake. 
We  left  the  other  lying  there — the  funeral  up  was 

hurrying ; 

The  darkey  came  to  life  again — bound  to  go  black- 
berrying  ! 

We  hurried  to  the  spot,  with  clubs  the  snake  to  lick; 
We  made  a  rush  upon  it — 'twas  nothing  but  a  crooked 

stick ! 

Oh,  there  was  fun,  ha !  ha !  oh,  there  was  fun,  ha !  ha ! 
Eating   berries   on  a  log ;  —  oh,  Sambo !  just  look 

there ! 


44  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Why,  what  is  that  he  eat  ?     The  darkey  swallowed  a 

frog! 
Eating  berries  on  a  log — eating  berries  on  a  log — 

Oh,  how  the  dark'  did  swill  'em ! 
The  way  he  lam'd  'em  in,  the  way  he  lam'd  'em  in, 

Two  cart-laads  couldn't  fill  'em. 
Oh,  there  was  fun,  ha!  ha! — oh,  the  Lawks! 


Uncle  Gabriel,  the  Darkey  General. 

Oh,  my  boys,  I'm  bound  to  tell  you ; 

,          Oh!  oh! 
Listen  awhile,  and  I  will  tell  you ; 

Oh!  oh! 

I'll  tell  you  little  'bout  Uncle  Gabriel ; 
Oh,  boys,  I've  just  begun. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virgmny. 

Oh,  don't  you  know  old  Uncle  Gabriel  ? 

Oh!  oh! 
Oh,  he  was  a  darkey  General, 

Oh!  oh! 

He  was  the  Chief  of  the  Insurgents, 
Way  down  in  Southampton. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 

It  was  a  little  boy  betrayed  him, 

Oh!  oh! 
A  little  boy  by  the  name  of  Daniel, 

Oh!  oh! 

Betrayed  him  at  the  Norfolk  landing ; 
Oh,  boys,  I'm  getting  done. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 

Says  he,  How  d'ye  do,  my  Uncle  Gabriel  ? 

Oh!  oh! 
I  am  not  your  Uncle  Gabriel, 

Oh!  oh! 

My  name  it  is  Jim  McCullen ; 
Some,  they  calls  me  Archey  Mullin. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  45 

The  whites,  they  fought  him  and  they  caught  him, 

Oh!  oh! 
To  Richmond  court-house  they  did  bring  him, 

Oh!  oh! 

Twelve  men  set  upon  the  jury ; 
Oh,  boys,  I'm  most  done. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 

They  took  him  down  to  the  gallows, 

Oh!  oh! 
They  drove  him  down  with  four  grey  horses, 

Oh!  oh! 

Brice's  Ben,  he  drove  the  wagon  ; 
Oh,  boys,  I'm  most  done. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 

And  there  they  hung  him  and  they  swung  him 

Oh!  oh! 
And  they  swung  him  and  they  hung  him, 

Oh!  oh! 

And  that  was  the  last  of  the  darkey  General ; 
Oh,  boys,  I'm  just  done. 
Hard  times  in  old  Virginny. 


Happy  are  We,  Darkies  so  Gay. 

Happy  are  we,  darkies  so  gay ! 
Come,  let  us  sing  and  laugh  while  we  play 
The  darkey  minstrels'  favorite  lay, 
With  a  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  and  laugh  while  we  plaj 
Music  delicious, 

0,  then  how  sweet! 
Your  kind  applauses 
We  hope  to  greet. 

Chorus.  Happy  are  we,  &c. 


- 

4:6  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

The  songs  that  we  sing,  some  of  them  are  fine; 
The  chorus  is  good,  when  we  all  do  combine. 
We  always  are  then  so  happy  and  gay, 
We  laugh  and  we  sing,  ha,  ha,  ha,  while  we  play. 
Singing  delicious, 

0,  then,  how  fine ! 
We  darkey  minstrels 
At  night  we  do  shine ! 

Chorus.  Happy  are  we,  &c. 

Ma'm'selle  Augusta — she  is  so  fine 
In  dancing  and  playing  in  the  pantomine ! 
We  darkey  minstrels,  with  blacken'd  face, 
Conies  the  cachuca  and  polka  with  grace. 
Dancing  delicious, 

0,  then  how  gay ! 
We'll  dance  and  we'll  sing 
'Till  the  break  of  day. 

Chorus.  Happy  are  we,  &c. 


Would  I  Were  a  Boy  Again. 

Oh,  would  I  were  a  boy  again, 

When  every  day  seemed  two  or  three ; 
I  fell  asleep  upon  the  floor, 

And  dreamed  of  happy  days  to  see. 
My  mother's  voice,  hoy  sweet  'twould  sing ; 

She  said  I  was  her  love — her  joy. 
I  touched  the  corn-stalk  fiddle-string, 

And  then  she  called  me  one  of  the  boys. 

Chorus.  Oh,  would  I  were  a  boy  again,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  47 

But  now  I'm  old,  and  am  not  your.g; 

My  mother,  she  is  dead  and  gone ; 
I  hear  the  songs  she  used  to  sing; 

One  of  them  was  Miss  Lucy  Long, 
Upon  the  future  I  look  back, 

And  see  the  days  that  now  are  scant 
Oh,  would  that  I  were  young  again, 

But  now  you  see  I'm  old,  arid  can't. 

Chorus.  Oh,  would  I  were  a  boy  again,  &c 


Santee's  River  Side. 


Oh,  swiftly  passed  those  happy  days, 

By  the  old  Santee's  side, 
Where  sweet  young  Jenny  promised  me 

She  soon  would  be  my  bride ; 
And  when  the  moon  her  gladsome  rays 

Cast  o'er  the  silvery  tide, 
Oh,  then  what  rapture  filled  this  heart, 

By  the  old  Santee's  side. 

Chorus.  Oh,  then  what  rapture  filled  this  heart,  &c 

But  those  bright  days  were  doomed,  alas 

To  wither  and  decaj7 ; 
My  Massa  sold  sweet  Jenny,  dear, 

And  sent  her  far  away. 
No  more  together  will  we  stray 

In  all  our  youthful  pride ; 
No  more  we'll  whisper  tales  of  love 

By  the  old  Santee's  side. 

Chorus.  No  more  we'll  whisper  tales  of  love,  &c. 


49  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

I  see  the  trees  hang  o'er  the  path, 

I  hear  the  sweet  birds  sing, 
They  only  mock  my  sorrow,  and 

With  grief  my  poor  heart  wring. 
At  eventide  I've  sought  that  spot, 

And  laid  me  down  and  cried — 
There's  nought  but  sorrow  now  for  me 

By  the  old  Santee's  side. 

Chorus^  There's  nought  but  sorrow  now  for  me,  &c. 


Oh9  Dearest  Dine. 

A  cutting  of  the  sugar-cane  is   this  here   darkey's 

fun, 
It  makes  him  laugh,  when  he  does  think  that  all  kid 

work  is  done ; 
And  then  to  that  old  white-washed  hut,  this  darkey 

does  repair, 
For  he  knows  within  that  same  old  hut  his  Dinah's 

waiting  there. 

Chorus. 

Oh,  dearest  Dine,  I'd  like  to  make  her  mine, 
-  And  if  I  was  but  rich  enough,  in  diamonds  she  should 
shine. 

When  working  in  the  'bacca-field,  a  darkey  said  one 

day — 

Now,  Julius,  if  you  marry  Dine,  we  all  will  run  away. 
Says  I,  My  boys,  I  can't  do  that,  for  Massa  won't 

agree, 
And  I'll  never  marry  lovely  Dine,  unless  he  sets  us 

free. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Dine,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  49 

One  day,  when  mowing  of  the  hay,  old  Massa  said 

to  me — 
Now,  Julius,  if  you  marry  Dine,  I'll  set  you  darkies* 

free. 
So,  now  unto  the  North  we  go,  and  there  we  live  so 

line, 
And  through  the  streets  I  promenade,   along  wit 

lovely  Dine. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Dine,  &c. 


The  Coon- Hunter's  Bride. 

Sam  Johnson  had  a  daughter  fair — 

Fair  as  darkey's  child  could  be ; 
Luscious  lips  and  raven  hair, 

Pearly  teeth,  and  step  so  free ; 
But  love  shot  dart  through  Rosa's  heart — 

A  young  coon-hunter,  stout  and  bold, 
Oft  sought  the  shade  where  Rosa  stray'd, 

And  many  the  witching  tale  he  told. 

Chorus.  Fly  o'er  the  hills  away  with  me, 

Fly  o'er  the  hills,  love,  whispered  he ; 

Hil-li-o!  hil-li-o! 
Fly  o'er  the  hills  away  with  rne. 

But  she,  that  lovely  one,  was  sought 

By  crook-shin  darkey,  far  away ; 
The  time  was  fixed,  the  ring  was  bought, 

And  then  came  Rosa's  wedding-day. 
Ro^/id  coal-fire  bright,  the  friends  at  night 

Make  merry  with  the  'spiring  cheer; 
But  one  was  there  who  wildly  stare, 

And  whisper' d  in  the  maiden's  ear. 

Chorus.  Fly  o'er  the  hills  away  with  me,  &c. 
5 


50  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

A  boat  rode  on  the  glassy  stream, 

And  far  the  moon  rode  in  the  sky ; 
And  then,  I  ween,  two  forms  were  seen, 

And  swiftly  from  the  shore  they  fly ! 
Now  down  the  tide  how  softly  glide 

That  hunter  and  his  stolen  fair — 
Long  may  they  stray  o'er  hills  away, 

And  live  and  love  forever  there. 

Chorus.  Fly  o'er  the  hills  away  with  me,  &c. 


My  Lucy  so  Fair. 

My  Lucy  was  fair  to  behold, 

She  was  the  pride  of  the  whole  plantation; 
She  was  worth  her  weight  in  gold — 

The  fairest  yellow  girl  in  the  nation. 

Chorus.  Then  sing  to  the  memory 

Of  my  Lucy  so  fair ; 
She  has  gone,  she  has  left  me, 
And  for  naught  do  I  care. 

When  with  her,  oh  how  gaily 

We  frolic'd  away  the  leisure  hours ; 

We  danced  and  sung  daily 

As  we  gather'd  the  cotton-flowers. 

Chorus.  Then  sing  to  the  memory,  &c. 

But  my  Lucy  began  to  fade, 

Her  beauty  to  wither  like  the  rose ; 

Soon  she  in  the  grave  was  laid  ; 

It  grieves  me  much,  and  my  heart  it  froze. 

Chorus.  Then  sing  to  the  memory,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  51 

Sweetly  she  sleeps  in  the  grave, 

'Neath  the  shade  of  the  stately  palm-trees. 

In  mournful  silence  they  wave, 
As  they're  ruffled  by  the  summer's  calm  breeze. 

Chorus.  Then  sing  to  the  memory,  &c. 

Oh,  my  heart  now  is  broken, 

And  soon  must  my  spirit  depart  this  earth — 
Now  my  last  words  are  spoken, 

"  Lay  me  near  Lucy,  in  the  land  of  my  birth." 

Chorus.  Then  sing  to  the  memory,  &c. 


Lizzy  Lee. 

The  moon  is  shining,   Lizzy  Lee,- 

So  lovely  is  the  day ; 
Your  faithful  darkey  comes  to  thee, 

With  banjo  for  to  play. 
Then,  Lizzy  Lee,  0,  list  to  me, 

And  hear  this  loving  so**^, 
And  do  riot  say,   "0,  go  away, 

You.  darkey,  get  along." 

We've  sung  together,  Lizzy  Lee, 

Together  hoed  the  field  ; 
Together  we  have  often  danced 

Ton  light  fantastic  heel ; 
For  you  I've  played  the  banjo  string, 

Beneath  the  cypress  tree  ; 
For  ybi*  this  faithful  darkey  sighs — 

For  you,  0,  Lizzy  Lee. 

0,  Lizzy  Lee  !  0,  ,Lizzy  Lee ! 

If  love  me  you  will  never, 
I'll  go  and  drown  me  in  the  sea, 
£      By  jumping  in  the  river. 
And  when  I'm  buried  in  the  grave, 

I'll  no  more  sigh  for  thee ; 
But  darkey  ghost  will  come  and  say, 

"0,  fickle  Lizzy  I#»e." 


52  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


The  Yellow  Rose  of  Texas. 

There's  a  yellow  girl  in  Texas 

That  I'm  going  down  to  see; 
No  other  darkies  know  her, 

No  darkey,  only  me ; 
She  cried  so  when  I  left  her 

That  it  like  tc  broke  my  heart, 
And  if  I  only  find  her, 

We  never  more  will  part. 

Chorus.  She's  the  sweetest  girl  of  colour 

That  this  darkey  ever  knew ; 
Her  eyes  are  bright  as  diamonds, 

And  sparkle  like  the  dew. 
You  may  talk  about  your  Dearest  Mae, 

And  sing  of  Rosa  Lee, 
But  the  yellow   Rose  of  Texas 

Beats  tli e  belles  of  Tennessee. 

Where  the  Rio  Grande  is  flowing. 

Arid  the  starry  skies  are  bright, 
Oh,   she  walks  along  the  river 

In  the  qniet  summer  right;. 
And  she  thinks  if  I  remember 

When  we  parted  long  ago, 
I  promised  to  come  back  again, 

And  not  to  leave  her  so. 

Chorus.  She's  the  sweetest  girl  of  colour,   &c 

Oh,  I'm  going  now  to  find  her, 

For  ni}7  heart  is  full  of  woe, 
And  we'll  sing  the  songs  together 

That  we  sang  so  long  ago. 
We'll  play  the  banjo  gaily, 

And   we'll  sing  our  sorrows  o'er, 
And  the  yellow  Rose  of  Texas 

Shall  be  mine  forever  more. 

Chorus.  She's  the  sweetest  girl  of  colour,  &e. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES  53 


Sarah  Day. 

I'll  sing  you  a  song  of  a  lovely  charmer,  one  Sarah 

Day- 
She  lived  with  me  in  Alabama,  where  often  she  did 

say, 
My  dearest  Bones,  my  lovely  Bones,  this  heart  was 

made  for  thee ; 
But    oh,  you   darkies   beware,  beware,  for  oh  hew 

false  was  she. 

Chorus. 

Farewell,  thou  lovely  Sarah,  farewell,  Sarah  Day ! 
Farewell,  thou  false  one,  Sarah,  farewell,  Sarah  Day ' 

I've  worked  from  morn  till  night  with  Sarah,  benea'th 

the  shady  lime, 
And  often  thought,  though  'twas  but  fancy,  I'd  win 

her  yet  in  time  ; 
We  talked  and  sang  love-rhymes  together,  sitting  on 

the  ground ; 
She  often  sighed,  and  called  me  dearer  than  all  the 

darkies  round. 

Chorus.  Farewell,  thou  lovely  Sarah,  £c. 

I  could  not  eat,  for  love  had  made  me  like  the  fish 
in  yonder  stream ; 

My  brother  darkies  did  not  know  me,  for  a  shadow  I 
did  seem. 

Beside  the  stream  I  met  my  Sarah,  one  fairy  moon 
light  night, 

And  fondly  swore  Fd  ever  love  her,  if  she'd  become 
my  wife. 

Chorus.  Farewell,  thou  lovely  Sarah,  &c. 

She  said  my  love  was  nought  but  fickle,  as  changeful 

as  the  moon, 
And  swore  she  ne'er  would  die  a  maiden,  but  would 

get  married  soon. 
5* 


54  CHRISTY'S  PLA.XTATTOX  MELODIES. 

Away  she   went,   and    quickly  married    my    hateful 

rival,  Flare  ; 
The  last  I  heard,  she  had  a  baby,  a  squalling  son  and 

heir. 

Chorus.  Farewell,  thou  lovely  Sarah,  &c. 

Then  learn  from  me,  ye  love-sick  darkies,  should  you 

e'er  fall  in  love, 
That  this  one  left  me  a  broken-hearted  and  a  dejected 

cove; 
And  though  they  sing  and  smile  so  softly,  and  look 

so  blithe  and  gay, 
Remember,  once  again,  I  pray  you,  poor  Bones  and 

false  Miss  Day. 

Chorus.  Farewell,  thou  lovely  Sarah,  &c. 


We'll  have  a  little  Dance  To-night,  Boys. 

Oh,  listen  to  this  good  old  tune, 

And  then  I'll  sing  another ; 
Oh,   Massa  gone  this  afternoon 

To  call  upon  his  brother. 
So,  darkies,   wait  a  little  while 

Till  he  gets  out  of  sight; 
"We'll  drop  the  shovel  arid  the  hoe, 

And  have  a  little  dance  to-nighi. 

Chorus.  We'll  have  a  little  dance  to-night,  boys 
And  dance  by  the  light  of  the  mooii 

I  want  the  cambric  handkerchief, 

I  want  the  beaver  hat; 
Oh,  hand  me  down  the  high-heel  boots, 

Likewise  the  silk  cravat. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  55 

The  darkies  all  are  grinning, 

Their  teeth  look  very  white, 
'Cause  they're  going  over  the  mountain, 

To  have  a  little  dance  to-night. 

Chorus.  To  have  a  little  dance  to-night,  &c. 

I  get  up  at  the  break  of  day, 

To  take  my  morning  walk ; 
I  meets  my  lovely  Julian, 

And  this  is  the  way  we  talk. — 
.  I  say,  You  are  my  only  love, 

You  are  my  heart's  delight; 
Won't  you  go  over  the  river, 

To  have  a  little  dance  to-night  * 

Chorus.  We'll  have  a  little  dance  to-night,  &c. 


Nelly  Bell. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  1  W. 
Porter,  Philadelphia. 

Oh,  place  me  in  that  same  dear  spot 

Where  lies  my  Nelly  Bell — 
'Tis  near  that  well-remembered  cot 

'Neath  the  willow  in  the  dell. 
'Twas  by  the  side  of,  the  bright  rill, 

That  near  her  .father's  old  hut  door, 
I  heard -.the  lips  of-  my  sweet  Nell 

Say  she  loved  young  Cajsar  Moore. 

Chorus.  There,  dearest  Nell,  I  oft  have  met — 

Dark  curls  flowed  o'er  her  head — 
I  think  I  see  her  dear  face  yet, 

Though  she's  sleeping  with  the  dead 

-'Twas  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night, 

When  riding  side  the  hill, 
As  the  lightning  flash'd,  the  horse  took  fright. 

And  dashed  into  the  rill. 


56  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

There  she  was  drowned,  my  dearest  maid, 
And  found  close  by  the  shore, 

And  in  the  cold  grave  she  was  laid, — 
Sweet  flowers  I  planted  o'er.    „ 

Chorus.  There,  dearest  Nell,  &c. 


Darkey  of  the  Ohio. 

White  folks,  come  listen  to  the  story 

Of  a  singing  darkey,  tall  and  young, 
Well-known  in  all  his  chanting  glory. 

Throughout  every  State,  his  banjo  rung 
In  steamboat,  rail-car,  farm  or  village ; 

His  music  charmed  all  ears  with  joy  ; 
Among  yellow  girls'  hearts  he  made  great  pillage, 

For  he  was  a  tall  young  darkey  boy. 

Chorus.  Oh-ho,  oh  he  was  all  the  go, 

Was  this  singing  darkey  of  Ohio ; 
Oh,  what  a-go,  what  a-go,  what  a-go, 
Was  this  singing  darkey  of  the  Ohio,  &c. 

Oft  ladies,  on  their  rich  plantations, 

Would  listen  to  this  black  Apollo's  lay, 
And  charmed  by  his  vocal  sinivation, 

Dark  maidens  tried  to  slope  with  him  away ; 
With  his  teeth  like  white  corn  grinning, 

And  his  white  eyes  rolling  wide, 
Some  merry  song  to  the  banjo  spinning, 

Oh,  how  the  coloured  girls  they  sighed. 

Chorus.  Oh-ho,  oh  he  was  all  the  go,  &c. 

Heigh-ho,  the  boatman  row, 

Floating  down  the  river  the  Ohio ! 

The  boatman  is  a  lucky  man, 

None  can  do  what  the  boatman  can ; 

Makes  fast  his  boat,  and  jumps  on  shore — 

Spends  his  money,  and  works  for  more. 

Chorus.  Heigh-ho,  the  boatman  row  &e. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  57 


The  Old  Virginia  State. 

Oh,  we  come  from  the  mountains 

Of  old  Virginny  State ; 
We're  a  band  of  darkies 

From  the  heel1  unto  the  pate ; 
With  a  band  of  music, 

Now  go  singing  through  each  State. 

We  have  left  our  darkie  parents 

In  old  Virginny  State ; 
They  bid  us  good-bye, 

And  we  bid  them  good  bye-er : 
We  are  true  coloured  singers, 

We  make  the  old  earth  ring,  sirs. 

WTe  have  ten  other  brothers, 

And  we've  sisters  one  and  t'other, 
With  one  father  and  one  mother, 

In  old  Virginny  State. 
With  all  of  us  together, 

We're  a  smashing  woolly  string. 
Oh,  handsome  bleating  black  sheep, 

And  our  history  we  sing. 

Yes,  while  the  air  is  ringing 
With  our  banjo  and  singing, 

We  to  you  the  news  are  bringing 
From  the  old  Virginny  State. 

We're  the  tribe  of  Sambo, 

And  their  several  names  we'll  sing. 

Cudjoe,  Banjo,  Pompey,   Caesar, 

Rawbone,  Jawbone,  Cuifee,  Sneezer, 
Juba,  Jumbo,  Pete,  and  Egg-eye, 
-  And  Twolips  are  our  names ; 
We're  the  sons  of  Dinah, 
Of  the  tribe  of  Sambo, 
And  now  we  touch  the  banjo, 
And  sing  you  our  Virginia  song. 


58  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

We're  all  real  darkies, 

Our  hair  and  lips  are  curled, 

And  we  hope  to  please  you, 
And  sing  it  through  the  world. 

luzza  !  huzza  !  huzza  ! 

Like  our  old  dads,  before  us, 
Who  used  to  join  in  the  chorus — 

The  coons  will  run  before  us 
When  we  give  the  loud  huzza! 

Huzza!  huzza!  huzza! 


Jenny  Lyle. 

My  Jenny  was  a  blithesome  lass, 

And  gentle  as  the  doe ; 
Her  breath  was  sweet  as  clover-grass, 

That  in  the  spring-time  grow ; 
Her  eyes  were  lit  with  mellow  ray, 

And  then  her  beaming  smile, 
That  round  the  lips  like  sunbeams  play, 

Of  lovely  Jenny  Lyle. 

Chorus.  But  she  is  dead  ;  sweet  Jenny's  dead ! 

We  ne'er  shall  see  her  more — 
She  sleeps  beneath  the  cotton-boughs,. 
On  Mississippi's  shore. 

ler  voice  was  like  the  rippling  stream 

That  sings  down  in  the  dell — 
its  zephyr-cadence  always  seem 

In  this  lone  heart  to  dwell. 
The  robin  listened  on  the  tree — 

With  sadden'd  thought  the  while — • 
So  soft,  so  sweet  the  melody, 

Of  lovely  Jenny  Lyle. 

Chorus.  But  she  is  dead,   &o. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  59 

All  things  that  clustered  round  her  feet, 

All  things  that  glow  aboon — 
The  warbling  birds  and  flowerets  sweet, 

The  shining  stars  and  moon ; 
And  all  the  darkies  in  the  land 

Had  sought  for  many  a  smile, 
To  win  the  gentle  heart  and  hand 

Of  lovely  Jenny  Lyle. 

Chorus.  But  she  is  dead,  £c. 


The  Gal  from  the  South. 

Old  Massa  owned  'a  coloured  girl — 

He  bought  her  at  the  South  ; 
Her  hair  it  curled  so  very  tight 

She  could  not  shut  her  mouth. 
Her  eyes  they  were  so  very  small, 

They  both  ran  into  one, 
And  when  a  fly  lit  in  her  eye, 

'Twas  like  a  June-bug  in  the  sun. 

Chorus.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha, 

The  gal  from  the  South; 
Her  hair  it  curl'd  so  very  tight, 
She  could  not  shut  her  mouth! 

Her  nose,  it  was  so  very  long, 

It  turned  up  like  a  squash, 
And  when  she  got  her  dander  up 

She  made  me  laugh,  by  goshl 
Old  Massa  had  no  hooks  or  nails, 

Or  nothing  else  like  that, 
So  on  this  darkie's  nose  he  used 

To  hang  his  coat  and  hat. 

Chorus.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  &c. 

One  morning,  Massa,  going  away, 
He  went  to  get  his  coat, 

But  neither  hat  nor  coat  was  there, 
For  she  had  swallowed  both; 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

He  took  her  to  a  tailor  shop, 

To  have  her  mouth  made  small ; 
The  lady  took  in  one  long  breath, 
N  And  swallowed  tailor  ajid  all ! 

Chorus.  Ba,  ha,  ha,   &c. 


Shining  Moon. 

Last  night,  when  the  moon  was  beaming, 

I  strolled  with  my  Lucy  love  ; 
The  flowers  were  sleeping  around  us, 

And  t&e  stars  were  shining  above. 
"We  walked  along  by  the  brook-side, 

Where  1  never  wandered  before, 
And  we  heard  the  waters  gurgling 

Their  notes  by  the  pebbled  shore. 

Chorus.  Oh,  silver-shining  moon, 

Guide  Ephraim  on  his  way, 
And  soon  you'll  see  he'll  married  be- 
Oh !  what  a  happy  day ! 

The  night-hawk  had  sung  his  song, 

The  owl  sang  in  the  tree. 
The  whippoorwills  were  waltzing 

Around  my  girl  and  me. 
I  asked  her  if  she  would  have  me  ; 

A  blush  came  o'er  her  cheek, 
Her  heart  it  palpitated, 

But  Lucy  could  not  speak. 

Chorus.  Oh,  silver-shining  moon,  &c. 

Oh,  then  I  take  her  in  my  arms, 

And  tried  to  make  her  speak ; 
The  tears  as  pure  as  drops  of  dew, 

Roll'd  down  her  sable  cheek. 
At  length  she  whispered  in  my  ear, 

And  said  she  would  have  me  soon ; 
I  kiss'd  away  the  dewy  tears, 

And  danced  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 

Chorus.  Oh,  silver-shining  moon,  &c 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES*.    .x      61 

The  Old  Jawbone.  / 

The  jawbone  hung  in  the  kitchen  ball,  f 

The  sea-bass  shone  on  the  white-wash  wall ; 
There  was  old  Jim  Brown  loved  fun  and  was 
He  kicked  up  the  deuce /on  a  holiday.  * 

Old  Jim  he  saw,  with  iffather's  pride, 
His  beautiful  child,  Sam  Johnson's  bride ; 
While  she,  with  her  bright  eyes,  seemed  to  be 
The  new  moon  for  that  company. 

Chorus.  Oh,  the  old  jawbone,  oh,  the  old  jawbone. 

"I've  eat  all  the  sea-bass,"  now  she  cried*, 
"  So  stop  for  a  minute,  I'll  hid$,  I'll  hide ! 
And,  Johnson,  make  sure  you're  the  first  to  trace 
The  clue  to  my  secret  hiding-place  !"      „.,-,•  .- 

She  ran  out  of,  the  kitchen ;  t.he  darkies,  b^gan^r 
To  hunt  all  round,  and  find  her  if  they  0an ; 
And  Johnson,  he  cried,  "  Where  'bout  you  hide  ? 
I'm  weary  without  you,  my. own  black  bride!" 

Chorus.  Oh,  the  old  jawbone,  £c. 

They  hunt  her  that  night,  they  hunt  her  next  day, 
They  hunt  her  all  round  when  a  week  pnss'd  away  ; 
In  the  short,  and  the  long,  in  the  big  hollow  log, 
Young  Johnson  hunt  wildly  with  aid  of  the  dog ; 
And  years  flew  by,  and  his  grief  at  last 
Was  told  as  the  coloured  tale  did  pass, 
And  when  Johnson  came  in,  the  young  darkies  cried, 
"  See  the  old  one  sobs  for  his  long-lost  bride." 

Chorus.  Oh,  the  old  jawbone,  &c. 

At  last  an  old  log,  long  covered  with  brush, 
Was  found  in  the  swamp  ;  the  darkies  did  rush* 
And  a  tapering  form  lay  mouldering  there,     </ 
In  the  dark-coloured  skin  of  the  lovely  faj$5 
Oh,  hard  was  her  fate ;  like  the  sportive  frog, 
She  hid  from  her  love  in  the  hollow  log, 
The  brush  was  thrown  over,  and  her  coloured  bloom 
All  faded  away  in  the  old  log  tomb. 

Chorus.  Oh,  the  old  jawbone,  &c. 
6 


62  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

About  twelve  o'clock,  at  the  hour  of  one, 

A  figure  appears,  and  it  strikes  you  dumb ! 

It  has  no  flesh  upon  its  bones ; 

It  shakes  its  teeth — it  laughs — it  groans  ! 

It  seizes  you  by  the  wool  of  the  head, 

And  it  shakes  you  about  'till  you're  almost  dead ! 

It  rings  in  your  ears,  "  I  was  murder'd  there  !" 

And'that's  what  they  call  the  old  nightmare. 

Chorus.  Oh,  the  old  jawbone,  &c. 


The  Heart-broken  Darkey. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte   accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
and  Son,  New  York. 

"% 
Dear  darkies,  I'll  tell  you  of  sorrow  and  woe, 

And  the  cause  of  this  poor  darkey's  sadness ; 
I  have  met  with  a  most  calamitous  blow, 

Which  has  driven  me  almost  to  madness  ; 
She  was  pale  as  the  light  that's  lit  by  the  moon, 

And  her  voice  like  the  song  of  the  dove — 
Her  teeth  were  like  pearls,  her  eyes  like  the  coon, 

She*  looked  like  she  was  from  above. 

Chorus. 
This  poor  child  is  sick  of  this  humbuging  world, 

For  all  that  he  loves  is  in  another. 
How  dear  to  this  heart  was  that  yellow  girl, 

Though  she  never  knew  that  I  loved  her. 

When  I  saw  her  at  first,  she  was  young  and  gay, 

And  how  lovely  did  look  and  behave — 
I  saw  her  at  last,  on  the  fatal  day 

That  she  was  laid  in  the  grave. 
I  loved  her  not  wisely,  but  loved  her  too  good, 

And  of  it  I  never  did  speak ; 
Congealment  preyed  on  like  the  worm  in  the  mud, 

And  eat  all  the  flesh  off  my  cheek. 

Chorus.  This  poor  child  is  sick,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  63 

Tins  poor  heart  am  bursted,  I  can  love  no  more, 

And  almost  to  frenzy  am  driven — 
I  wish  I  was  dead  and  my  sorrows  all  o'er, 

I  know  I  shall  meet  her  in  heaven. 
The  world  has  no  feelings,  they're  cold  as  the  stones, 

There's  no  balm  for  the  wounded  heart; 
In  the    grave-yard    there's    room   for   this   poor 
darkey's  bones — 

To  the  grave-yard  I  want  to  depart. 

Jhorus.  This  poor  child  is  sick,  &c. 


Carry  me  Back  to  Old  Virginia's  Shore. 

When  I  was  young  in  old  Virginia, 

I  worked  from  day  to  day 
Among  the  flowery  hills  and  fields, — 

To  me  it  was  but  play  ; 
But  now  I'm  growing  old  and  lame, 

My  bones  are  getting  sore — 
Then  carry  me  back  to  old  Virginia, 

To  old  Virginia  shore. 

Chorus.  Oh,  carry  me  back,  &c. 

Oh,  if  I  could  be  young  again, 

I'd  lead  a  different  life, 
I'd  save  my  money  and  buy  a  farm, 

With  Dinah  for  my  wife ; 
And  when  too  old  and  feeble  prown, 

I  could  not  work  any  more, 
In  greenwood  shade  I'd  lay  me  down, 

On  old  Virginia's  shore. 

Chorus.  Oh,  carry  me  back,  &c. 

And  -when  at  last  in  death  I  sleep, 
Lay  the  banjo  by  my  side — 

Oh,  bury  it  with  me  in  the  grave, 
For  here  it  was  my  pride. 


64  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Then  peacefully  I'll  take  my  rest, 
And  dream  forever  more, 

They  carry  me  back  to  old  Virginia, 
To  old  Virginia's  shore. 

Chorus.  Then  carry  me  back,  &c. 


Sukey  Lane. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte, accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
and  Son,  New  York. 

Last  fall  I  was  so  very  ill, 

This  spring  I  am  the  same; 
This  heart  is  sinking  all  the  time 

For  pretty  Sukey  Lane. 
The  darkies  all  do  wonder  so, 

And  say  what's  in  a  name, 
That  I  should  talk  so  all  the  day 

Of  pretty  Sukey  Lane. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Sukey,  Sukey  Lane, 
Oh,  Sukey,  Sukey  Lane, 
This  heart  is  sinking  all  the  time 
For  pretty  Sukey  Lane. 

Miss  Sukey's  going  to  leave  me 

In  trouble  and  in  pain, 
But  she  has  been  so  very  kind, 

I  wish  her  back  again. 
I  got  so  sick  old  Massa  call ; 

The  doctor  did  complain, 
And  said,  "He'll  grieve  himself  to  death 

For  lovely  Sukey  Lane." 

Chorus.  Oh,  Sukey,  Sukey  Lane,  &c. 

He  feels  my  pulse,  he  shakes  his  head, 

Says  he,   "  'Tis  very  plain, 
This  heart  is  breaking  for  the  love 

Of  pretty  Sukey  Lane." 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  65 

They  saw  it  was  so  very  true, 

They  gave  me  Mary  Blane. 
But  now  I  wish  they  had  her  back, — 

I  want  my  Sukey  Lane. 

Chorus.  Oh,  Sukey,  Sukey  Lane,   &c. 


Nancy  Shore. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Vander 
beek,  New  York. 

Oh,  come  my  boys  and  hark  to  me, 

I've  something  fine  to  tell  you  all  • 
To-morrow  night  is  my  birth-da}', 

I'm  bound  to  have  a.  ball. 
The  fiddles  we'll  have  and  the  banjo  too, 

And  the  bones  with  their  merry,  merry  click, 
'    As  Nancy  Shore  is  to  be  there ; 

Oh,  Nancy  Shore's  a  brick. 

Chorus.  Then  she's  the  girl  to  dance  with  me, 

Oh,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la, 
She's  the  girl  to  dance  with  me, 
Oh,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la. 

In  the  old  barn  behind  the  house, 

Is  where  I'm  going  to  have  a  dance , 
We'll  all  go  in  and  take  a  jig 

With  pretty,  pretty  Nance ; 
I've  got  a  girl  for  Julius  there, 

As  pretty  a  girl  as  ever  was  seen, 
And  a  black-eyed  girl  as  is  to  dance 

To  Pompey's  tamborine. 

Chorus.  Then  she's  the  girl,  &c. 

We'll  have  ice  cream  and  lemonade, 
And  little  cakes  and  something  more, 

And  then,   old  boys,  just  think  of  this, 
We'll  have  our  Nancy  Shore ; 
G* 


66  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Oh,  Polly  Potts,  and  Kitty  Ann, 

They  both  said  they'd  be  sure  to  come; 

But  Nancy  Shore  I'll  tell  you  what, 
That  bright-eyed  girl  is  some. 

Chorus.  Then  she's  the  girl,  &c. 

Remember,  boys,  and  try  to  come; 

You  must  be  there  by  eight  o'clock, 
As  Nancy  Shore  told  me  to-day, 

She'd  come  in  her  new  frock; 
A  pretty  foot,  with  little  toes, 

Will  skip  upon  the  old  barn  floor, 
And  now  we'll  give  three  hearty  cheers, 

To  Nancy,  Nancy  Shore. 

Chorus.  Then  here's  to  thee,  dear  Nancy  Shore,  &c. 


Oh,  Dinah  Dear. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  bv  Millett, 
New  York. 

Oh,  Dinah  dear,  thy  Gumbo's  here, 

Waiting  beneath  the  old  gum-tree ; 
The  stars  of  night  are  far  less  bright 

Than  is  my  Dinah's  eyes  to  me. 
The  mocking-bird's  note,  which  on  the  air  floats, 

Is  thrown  in  the  shade  when  Dinah  sings. 
Then  Dinah  dear,  thy  Gumbo's  here, 

While  soft  rlie  strikes  his  banjo  strings. 

Give  but  one  smile,  to  cheer  this  child, 

And  your  own  Gumbo  will  away ; 
Then  all  the  day  work  will  seem  play, 

And  while  I'm  thinking  of  Dinah  I'll  be  gay    • 
And  like  the  grape-vine  which  round  the  oak  twine, 

Oh,  Dinah  dear,  to  Gumbo  cling ; 
Then  Dinah  dear,  thy  Gumbo  hear, 

While  soft  he  strikes  his  banjo  strings 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  67 

DUETT. 
Now,  Gumbo,  do  not  tease  me  so  ; 

I  say  again,  and  that  quite  plain, 
Your  serenading  is  no  go, 

Your  love  I  do  disdain. 
Oh,  stop  that  horrid  banjo  sound, 

Now,  Gumbo,  pray  no  longer  stay, 
Old  bossy  soon  will  be  around, 

Now  cut  your  stick  away. 

Gumbo.-  Dinah,  let  me  in ! 
Dinah.  Ah,  ah,   ah,   ah,   ah ! 
Gumbo.  Wherefore  do  you  grin  ? 

*  Dinah,  let  me  in  ! 
Dinah.  Ah,  ah,  ah,  ah,  ah! 
Gumbo.  Dinah,  let  me  in 

Before  the  break  of  day! 


Old  Virginia  Never  Tire. 

In  Virginia's  land,  where  corn-stalks  grow,  where  the 

darkies  are  so  gay, 
With  spade  and  hoe,  and  away  they  go  to  work  till 

the  close  of  day. 
When  work  is  done  and  night  is  come,  'tis  the  darkies 

jubilee; 
The  girls  so  sweet,  they  loo'k  so  neat  and  merry  as 

can  be. 

Chorus. 

The  fiddle  sing,  the  banjo  ding,  Virginia  never  tire  : 
To  laugh  and  sing  is  just  the  thing  we  darkies  (0 
admire. 

V 

Oh,  happy  is  the  darkey's  life,  when,  hunting  for  tne 

coon, 
He  has  the  fun  with  the  clog  and  gun  to  catch  nun 

very  soon ; 


68  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

When  Towser  spy  the  darkey's  eye,  and  through  the 

woods  he  run, 
To  track  the  coon  by  the  silver  moon,  that  is  the 

darkey's  fun. 

Chorus.  The  fiddle  sing,  &c. 

But  now  I'm  old,  and  cannot  play  as  I  used  to  do 

before, 
When  the  fiddle  sing  and  the  banjo  ding — them  happy 

days  are  o'er ; 

To  Virginia  land  I  bid  adieu,  and  with  a  parting  sigh 
I'll  bid  farewell  to  all  of  you — it  almost  makes  me  cry 

Chorus.  The  fiddle  sing,  &c. 


Susan  Raync. 

When  I  was  taken  from  my  home, 

Down  in  Virginia  State, 
They  parted  me  from  one  I  loved, — 

Sad  story  to  relate. 
All  day  I  wept,  at  night  I  cried, 

"  Oh,  take  me  back  again 
Unto  my  own  dear  happy  home, 

To  my  poor  Susan  Rayne." 

Chorus.  Oh,  pity  my  poor  Susan  Rayne, 

No  friendly  voice  to  cheer  her  now — 
Oh,  pity  my  poor  Susan  Rayne, 
She'll  never  smile  again. 

They  sold  me  to  a  Southern  man, 

I  did  his  pity  gain, 
He  loosed  me  from  the  cruel  yoke, 

And  sent  me  back  again. . 
But  oh,  I  could  not  Susan  find, 

My  own  dear  Susan  Rayne ; 
They  told  me  she  was  dead  and  gone, 

And  sleeping  on  the  plain. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  69 

Chorus.  Then  pity  my  poor  Susan  Rayne, 

Deep  sorrow  broke  her  aching  heart- — 
Then  pity  my  poor  Susan  Rayne, 
We'll  never  meet  again. 

All  night  I  sat  upon  her  grave, 

And  sorely  I  did  cry, 
"  Awake!  awake!  my  love,  awake, 

Or  let  me  with  thee  die ; 
For  in  this  wretched  world  of  woe 

I  ne'er  shall  rest  again, 
Until  I'm  sleeping  by  thy  side, 

My  own  dear  Susan  Rayne." 

Chorus.  Oh,  pity  then  poor  Susan  Rayne,  &c. 


The  M.  P.'s  Musical  Invitation. 

[The  M.  P.  invites  Miss  Snow  to  accompany  him  on  a  short  tour 
up  the  East  river,  she  having  been  detected  in  "  stealing  trash," 
alias  a  purse.  Broder  Bones  is  too  much  affected  with  the 
incident,  so  he  requests  Mr.  Johnson  to  sing  it.] 

Oh,  just  you  now  come  here, 
And  your  future  home  shall  be 
Where  naughty  spirits  rove, 
In  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re — 
In  the  peni — peni — 
In  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re. 

There  are  spirits  ripe  to  dare 

In  the  caverns  they  call  cells, 
And  to  clip  thy  raven  hair 

There  a  barber  always  dwells. 
In  a  tiny  little  boat 

Thou  shalt  stem  the  river's  tide, 
Or  in  a  prison-car 

Sit  with  "  M.  P."  by  your  side 

Chorus.  So  just  you  now  come  here,  &c. 


70  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Ah,  believe  that  there  you'll  dwell, 

And  the  tarry  ropes  entwine, 
And  that  every  wretched  cell 

Has  a  task  as  hard  as  thine ; 
Hopes  as  long  as  thou  canst  pick, 

Soup  as  weak  as  e'er  was  made, 
Naught  but  straw  within  the  tick, 

Taught  to  learn  a  useful  trade. 

Chorus.  So  just  you  now  come  here, 

And  your  future  home  shall  be 

Where  naughty  spirits  rove, 

In  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re — 

In  the  peni — peni — 

In  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re. 

Come,  come,  you  must  make  haste, 

Come  to  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re, 

To  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re ; 

Come,  I  pray,  make  haste 

To  the  pen-i-ten-tia-re. 


See,  Darkies,  See ! 

Burlesque  from  the  Opera  of  "  La  Somnambula." 

First  Voice.  See,  sir,  see! 
Second  Voice.  Oh,  who  can  this  be  ? 
Third  Voice.  Yes,  the  mill  there,  the  rocks  and  the 

treeses, 
And  the  duck-pond  and  the  geeses ! 

As  I  view  now  these  scenes  so  charming, 
*With  fond  remembrance  my  heart  is  warming, 
Of  days  long  vanished,  of  days  long  vanished  ; 
Oh,  this  chest ! — oh,  this  chest  is  filled  with  pain, 
Finding  darkies  that  still  remain, 
While  those  days  and  those  nights, 
And  that  must  never  come  again. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  71 

First  Voice.   Ah,  who  is  he,  sir !  can  you  tell  ? 
Second  Voice.  He  surely  knows  this  place  full  well  ? 
Third  Voice.   Finding  darkies  that  still  remain, 
While  those  days  and  those  nights, 
And  that  must  not  come  again : 
Oh,  that  form  there  brings  some  remembrance, 
Gentle  darkies — oh,  what  strong  resemblance ! 
First  Voice.  To  whom  ? 
Third  Voice.  To  my  poor  Lucy  Neal,  to  my  poor  Lucy 

Neal, 

And  if  I  had  her  by  my  side,  how  happy 
I  should  feel. 

Chorus.  To  his  poor  Lucy  Neal,  to  his  poor  Lucy 

Neal, 

And  if  he  had  her  by  his  side,  how  happy  he 
would  feel. 

Third  Voice.  Away  down  in  Alabama,  not  far  from 

Old  Mobile, 
There  dwelt  a  pretty  yellow  girl,  her 

name  was  Lucy  Neal ; 
Her  coal-black   eyes,  her  curly  locks, 

around  her  neck  did  steal, 
Which  early  taught  my  heart  to  love  my 

pretty  Lucy  Neal. 

Chorus.  To  his  poor  Lucy  Neal,  &c. 

Third  Voice.  Oh,  what  strong  resemblance  ! 

Yes,  those  black  eyes  my  heart  impressing, 
Fill  my  breast  with  thoughts  distressing — 
Long  since  dead,  long  since  dead,  and  passed 

away ; 

She  was  like  thee  just  about  the  heel, 
Was  my  lovely  Lucy  Neal. 

Chorus*  To  his  poor  Lucy  Neal,  &c. 


WHOLESALE  AND  RETAIL  MUSIC  WAREHOUSES, 

And  Dealers  in  Musical  Merchandize* 


RODDEN  &  STEWART, 
100  Walnut  Street,  Philad'a. 

MILLET, 
329  Broadway,  New  York. 

COVENHOVEN  &  SCULL, 
184  Chestnut  Street,  Philad'a. 

J.  E.  BOSWELL, 
Baltimore,  Md. 


GEO.  WILLIG-,  JR., 
Baltimore,  Md. 

J.  W.  PORTER, 

241  South  Third  St.,  Philad'a.1 

J.  0,  BECKEL, 
3  North  Tenth  St.,  Philad'a. 

HENRY  MCCAFFREY, 
Baltimore,  Md. 


CONTENTS  OF  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES,  NO,  I 


Old  Folks  at  Home  ........  Page 

Oh!  Boys,  carry  me  'long  ..... 

Nelly  Ely  ........................... 

Way  down  in  Ca-i-ro  ............ 

Polcy  Jones  ........................ 

King,  ring  de  Banjo  ..........  '... 

My  Brodder  Gum  ................ 

Camptown  Races,  or  Gwine 

to  run  all  Night  ............... 

Be  Days  when  I  was  young- 
Greeting  to  a  Merry  Key  — 

not  Jenny  Lind's  .............. 

Old  Aunty  Brown  ............... 

Medley  Song  ....................... 

De  last  oh  de  Cabbages  ......... 

Julius  from  Kentucky  ......... 

Rosa  Bell  ....................  ....... 

Parody—  "On  Old  Long  Island'; 

sea-girt  Shore"  ................. 

Jane  Monroe  ...................... 

Nelly  was  a  Lady  ................. 

Julius'  Bride  ....................... 

Ginger's  Wedding  ................ 

Mary  Blane  ........................ 

Witching  Dinah  Crow  .......... 

Nancy  Tease  ........................ 

Parody  oa  "The  Phantom 

Chorus"  ......................... 

Fi-Hi-Hi,  the  Black  Shaker's 

Song  ..............  .................. 

Katy  Dean  ...............  .......... 

Uncle  Ned  ........................... 

Old  Uncle  Edward  ............ 


Gone  to  Alabama Pago  • 

Emma  Snow 

10  Gum-Tree  Canoe 

The  Virginia  Rose-Bud;  or, 


The  Lost  Child.. 
Emma  Dale.. 


12 
13 

14  Stop  dat  Knocking 
Bowery  Gals 

15  The  Haunted  Well, 

We'll  hare  a  little  Dance  to 
night,  Boys. 

18  I  wish  J.  was    in   Ole  Vir- 

19  ginny 

20  Rosa  Dear.. 


50 
I'm  off  for  Charleston 51 

52 
54 
55 
55 
56 


21 

22  Poor  Aunt  Dinah 

24  Come  to  de  Ole  Gum  Tree 

Oh  Come,  Darkies,  Come 

24  Massa  sound  is  Sleeping 

26  Walk  in  the  Parlour 

26  Wakeup,Mose!  the  Engine's 
Coming. 

29  Dolly  Day. 

30  Angelina  Baker 


Melinda  May.. 


Kate  Lorraine 

jShe  Sleeps  in  the  Grave 

33  The  Darkey's  Serenade 

Joe  oh  Tennessee 

34  Julia  Green 

35jLynchburg  Town 

36 'Negro's    Seven    Ages  —  not 
37      Shakspeare's 

C72) 


CHRISTY  S   PLANTATION    MELODIES. 

I  planted  there  upon  her  grave 
The  weeping-willow  tree, 

I  bathed  its  roots  with  many  a  tear, 
That  it  might  shelter  me. 

Chorus.  For  good  old  Jeff,  &c. 


Old  Dog  Tray. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond,  &  Co.,  New  York. 

The  morn  of  life  is  past 

And  evening  comes  at  last, 
It  brings  me  a  dream,  of  a  once  happy  day, 

Of  merry  forms  I've  seen 
'     Upon  the  village  green, 
Sporting  with  my  old  dog  Tray. 

Chorus.  Old  dog  Tray's  ever  faithful, 
Grief  cannot  drive  him  away ; 
He's  gentle,  he's  kind — 1*11  never,  never  find 
A  better  friend  than  old  dog  Tray. 

The  forms  I  called  my  own 

Have  vanished  one  by  one — 
The  loved  ones,  the  dear  ones,  have  all  passed  away — 

Their  happy  smiles  have  flown, 

Their  gentle  voices  gone, 
I've  nothing  left  but  old  dog  Tray. 

Chorus.  Old  dog  Tray's  ever  faithful,  &c. 

When  thoughts  recall  the  past 

His  eyes  are  on  me  cast, 
I  know  that  he  feels  what  my  breaking  heart  would  say, 

Although  he  cannot  speak, 

I'll  vainly,  vainly  seek 
A  better  friend  than  old  dog  Tray. 

Chorus.  Old  dog  Tray's  ever  faithful,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


I  Long  for  My  Home  in  Kentuck. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,   published  by  J.  C. 
Beckel,  No.  3,  North  Tenth  St.,  Philadelphia. 

I  long1,  how  I  long1  for  rny  home  in  Kentuck, 

With  its  fields  where  I  labored,  so  green, 
Where  the  possum  and  the  coon,  arid  the  juicy  wild 
duck, 

And  the  'bacco  so  prime,  I  have  seen ; 
There  I've  fished  from  the  banks  of  the  Masella  creek, 

And  oft,  in  the  shade  of  the  night, 
Have  I  watched  with  my  gun,  nigli  the  old  Salt  Lick, 

For  the  game  as  it  come  to  my  sight. 

Chorus.  There  is  my  old  cabin  home, 

There  is  my  sisters  and  brother, 

There  is  my  wife,  joy  of  my  life, 

My  child,  and  the  grave  of  my  mother. 

That  hut,  my  dear  home,  my  log-cabin  home, 

With  the  bench  that  I  stood  at  the  door, 
Where,  weary  at  night,  from  my  work  I  would  come, 

And  there  rest,  ere  I  stepped  on  its  floor. 
The  calabash  vine,  that  then  clung  to  its  walls, 

Oh  !  'tis  dear  in  my  memory  still  to  me, 
And  my  master,  who  lives  in  his  own  handsome  halls  ^ 

Not  so  happy  as  then  I  could  be. 

Chorus.  There  is  my  old  cabin  home,  &c. 

But  that  cabin  is  far,  far  away  from  me  now, 

I  am  far  from  the  scenes  that  I  love, 
Far  away  from  that  wife  who  once  heard  me  vow 
^      That  forever  I  faithful  would  prove — 
My  friends  are  still  there,  and  still  there  is  my  child, 

And  still  there,  all  in  life,  I  most  crave — 
Still  there  is  that  mound,  with  its  flowers  so  wild, 

That  covers  my  old  mother's  grave. 

Chorus.  There  is  my  old  cabin  home,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Lily  Dale.      > 


Twas  a  calm,  clear  night,  and  the  moon's  pale  light 

Shone  soft  o'er  hill  and  vale, 
When  sad-hearted  friends  stood  around  the  death-bed 

Of  rny  poor,  sweet  Lily  Dale ! 

Chorus. 

O,  Lily  !  sweet  Lily  !  dear  Lily  Dale  ! 
Now  the  wild  roses  wave  o'er  her  little  green  grave, 
'Neath  the  trees  in  the  blooming  vale ! 

Like  a  fair  flower  white,  on  that  sad,  still  night, 

Swept  by  some  icy  gale, 
On  her  couch  of  snow,  in  her  beauty  bright, ' 

Lay  my  dear,  sweet  Lily  Dale ! 

Chorus.  O,  Lily  !  sweet  Lily  !  dear  Lily  Dale  !  &c. 

"  I  go,"  and  she  smiled,  as  we  wept  o'er  the  child, 

"  To  that  sinless,  happy  vale, 
Where  a  kind  hand  shall  wipe  all  pain  from  the  brow 

Of  your  poor,  dear  Lily  Dale !" 

Chorus.  O,  Lily !  pale  Lily  !  sweet  Lily  Dale  !  &c. 
™ 
^  The  moon  went  down  'neath  the  forest  brown, 

And  the  stars  grew  dim  and  pale, 
And  the  death  smile  wreathed  the  white,  cold  lips, 
Of  my  poor,  lost  Lily  Dale ! 

*  Chorus.  O,  Lily!  sweet  Lily!  dear  Lily  Dale !  &c. 

Where  the  flowers  bloom  o'er  her  lonely  tomb,: 

'Neath  the  trees  of  the  leafy  vale ; 
Sweetly  slcepeth  in  peace,  while  the  bright  birds  sing, 

My  loved,  my  dear  Lily  Dale  ! 

Chorus.  O  Lily  !  pale  Lily !  lost  Lily  Dale  !  &c. 


10  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Pierce's  (localized)  The  Other  Side  of  Jordan. 

Of  all  the  banjo  songs  that  have  been  sung-  of  late, 
There  is  none  that  is  now  so  often  called  on, 

As  the  one  I  sing  myself,  and  apply  it  to  the  times, 
It's  called  "On  the  other  Side  of  Jordan." 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  and  roll  up  my  sleeves, 
Hard  road  to  travel  over  Jordan, 
Throw  off  my  coat,  and  roll  up  my  sleeves, 
Jordan  is  a  hard  road  to  travel  I  believe. 

Around  the  Crystal  Palace  there  are  a  great  many 

shows, 

Where  all  the  green  ones  are  drawn  in — 
There  are  snakes  and  alligators,  mammoth  mules  and 

big  potatoes, 
That  were  raised  upon  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

The  Sovereign  of  the  Seas,  she  went  to  Liverpool, 
In  less  than  fourteen  days,  too,  according, 

Johnny  Bull  he  wiped  his  eyes,  and  looked  with  surprise, 
At  this  clipper  from  the  Yankee  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

The  ladies  of  England  have  sent  a  big  address  f  . 

About  slavery,  and  all  its  horrors,  according, 
They  had  better  look  at  home,   to  their  own  white 


That  are  starving  on  the  English  side  of  Jordan. 
Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c.  , 

They  have  got  a  bearded  lady  down  at  Barnum's  show, 
And  lots  of  pictures  outside,  according, 

She's   going   to   take   her    eye-lashes    for   a  p^ir   of 

i  mustaches, 
For  to  travel  on  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  11 

There  were  snakes  in  Ireland  many  years  ago, 
Saint  Patrick  saw  the  varmints  a  crawling-, 

He  up  with  his  shelalah  and  hit  them  on  the  head, 
And  drove  them  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

Oh,  the  big  Hippodrome,  it  makes  a  mighty  fuss 
When  all  of  their  trumpets  get  a-sounding — 

The  ostrich  kicked  the  camel,  and  then  he  got  mad 
And  started  for  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

The  steamer  Atlantic  is  a  mighty  fast  craft, 
And  she  beats  the  Cunarders  according, 

And  I  shouldn't  be  surprized,  if  in  a  short  time, 
Tftat  she'd  make  the  quickest  trip  up  the  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

The  Duchess  of  Southerland,  she  keeps  the  Stafford 
House, 

The  place  where  the  "  Black  Swan"  is  boarding ; 
At  a  musical  party,  they  asked  her  for  a  song, 

And  she  gave  them — On  the  other  Side  of  Jordan, 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

The  office-seekers  have  all  been  in  a  stew 

About  the  cabinet  and  the  chances  aucording, 

And  for  one  that  get's  a  place,  there  will  be  a  small 

crowd 
That  will  get  them — on  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

There's  the  case  of  "  Costa,"  that  has  made  so  much 
talk, 

The  Austrians  they  tried  for  to  maul  him, 
But  Captain  Ingraham  said,  if  they  didn't  let  him  go, 

He'd  blow  them  on  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus,  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 
2 


12  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

But  all  the  world  must  know,  wherever  we  may  go, 
Our  government  will  be  ready  in  affording 

Protection  alike  to  all,  both  the  great  and  small, 
That  hail  from  the  Yankee  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 

Our  great  father,  Washington,  he  was  a  mighty  man, 
And  all  the  Yankees  do  their  fighting  according, 

They  will  raise  the  flag  of  freedom  wherever  they  can, 
Till  they  plant  it  on  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus.  I  take  off  my  coat,  &c. 


Etty  Way,  or  Good-bye,  Boys.        ^ 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Stewart 
&  Co.,  No.  210,  Chesnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

Oh  !  don't  you  remember,  pretty  Etty  Way, 
That  gentle  form,  long  since  passed  away — 
A  little  slab  of  marble,  with  Etty  graved  on  top, 
And  a  little  mound  of  clay,  marks  the  quiet  spot. 

Chorus. 

Good-bye,  boys,  I'm  off  for  home,  far  across  the  bay, 
The  whip-poor-will  will  knell  the  death,  the  death  of 
Etty  Way. 

They  laid  her  where  the  spring-time  comes, 
Where  mocking-birds  sing,  and  bees  do  hum. 
Her  spirit,  like  birds  at  eve,  has  flown  ;fa*^ way, 
To  find  a  better  home  for  gentle  Etty  way. 

Chorus.  Good-bye,  boys,  &c. 

Etty  was  so  gentle,  kind,  and  good  to  all, 
She  played  the  old  banjo,  which  hung  upon  the  wall — 
Etty's  voice  was  low  arid  sweet,  like  the  little  bird, 
Thorn  soft  and  gentle  tones  that  I've  so  often  heard. 

Chorus.  Good-bye,  boys,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  13 

The  little  cottage  home  is  lonely  and  still, 
Her  warm  dimpled  cheek  is  now  cold  and  chill — 
Well  do  I  remember  when  warm  was  that  breast — 
All  is  now  silent  and  sad  round  the  place  where  she  rests 

Chorus.  Good-bye,  boys,  &c. 


Sweet  Lilla  Brown. 

Music,  -with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Oliver 
Ditson,  No.  115,  Washington  Street,  Boston. 

My  Lilla  was  a  charming-  gal, 

She  was  raised  away  down  south, 
And  the  prettiest  features  in  her  face 

Were  the  lips  around  her  mouth. 
Stop  the  dance,  stop  the  song, 

Lay  the  banjo  down, 
For  she  is  now  in  the  happy  land, 

Sweet  Lilla  Brown. 

Chorus.  Stop  the  dance,  stop  the  song,  &c. 

Her  voice  was  all  melodious, 

Like  the  sound  of  a  silver  fip ; 
And  when  she  walked  around  the  room, 

She  sailed  just  like  a  ship. 
Her  feet,  they  were  so  very  long, 

That  when  she  turned  around 
She  fell  into  the  Southern  bay, 

And  there  she  run  aground. 

Chorus.  Stop  the  dance,  stop  the  song,  &e. 

That  was  her  end,  and  no  mistake, 

Oh  !  how  this  darkey  cried, 
He  smothered  his  solemcholyness 

With  oysters — raw  and  fried  ; 
But  now,  Oh  my !   she's  dead  and  gone, 

Way  down  in  the  Southern  bay, 
The  oysters  sing  her  lullaby 

To  rny  lovely  darkey  fay. 

Chorus.  Stop  the  dance,  stop  the  song,  &c. 
2 


14  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

She's  Black,  But  That's  no  Matter. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  Published  by  Firth, 
Pond,  &  Co-,  New  York. 

My  Dinah,  dear  me,  she's  as  beautiful  quite, 
As  a  star  that  shines  calmly  at  the  close  of  the  night — 
A  voice  like  a  syren,  a  foot  like  a  fay — 
"  She  just  such  a  gal  you  don't  meet  every  day." 
Spoken.  But  she's  black ! 
Chorus.  I  know  she  is,  but  what  of  that, 
You'd  love,  could  you  look  at  her, 
I'd  have  her  just  the  way  she  is, 
She's  black,  but  that's  no  matter. 

She  lives  on  the  banks  of  a  bright-flowing  stream, 
In  a  cabin  that  might  have  been  built  in  a  dream, 
Surrounded  by  roses,  and  woodbines,  and  leaves, 
"That  twine  and  climb  lovingly  up  to  the  eaves." 

Spoken.  But  she's  so  very  black  ! 

Chorus.  I  know  she  is,  &c. 

If  ever  I  marry  this  dark  color'd  maid, 
You'll  believe  in  the  truth  of  what  I  have  said ; 
I  love  her  because  her  complexion  will  keep, 
"  And  they  say  that  all  beauty  is  only  skin  deep." 

Spoken.  But  she's  black  ! 
Chorus.  I  know  she  is,  &c. 


Ho !  Ho !  for  Ginger  Bluff. 

I  live  near  Ginger  Bluff,  along  with  'Tilda,  dear, 
And  near  my  old  hut  runs,  the  river  deep  and  clear — 
There  Joe  and  Caesar  dwell,  along  with  Pompey  Puff, 
And  all  are  happy  there,  around  old  Ginger  Bluff. 

Chorus. 

Ho!  ho!  for  Ginger  Bluff— Ha !  ha!  for  Ginger  BlufF, 
For  all  are  happy  there  around  old  Ginger  Bluff. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  15 

The  sun  sometimes  shakes  hands  with  Venus  and  with 

Mars, 

And  every  night  the  moon  cuts  capers  with  the  stars— 
A  comet  sometimes  comes,  oh !  ain't  he  up  to  snuff, 
And  whisks  his  fairy  tail  around  old  Ginger  Bluff. 

Chorus.  Ho!  ho!  for  Ginger  Bluff,  &c. 

I  thought  my  'Tilda  once  did  sing  the  sweetest  tune, 
It  was  the  loveliest  song  I  ever  heard  in  June ; 
I  thought  my  darkey  bride  sung  sweet  and  clear  enough. 
But  now  the  gals  all  sing  around  old  Ginger  Bluff. 

Chorus.  Ho  !  ho  !  for  Ginger  Bluff,  &c. 

Then  come  to  Ginger  Bluff,  the  cotton-fields  are  white, 
And  if  we  work  all  day,  we'll  gnily  dance  at  night — 
We  nothing  have  but  fun,  Old  Massa's  good  enough, 
No  trouble's  ever  seen,  around  old  Ginger  Bluff. 

Chorus.  Ho !  ho  !  for  Ginger  Bluff. 


Will  no  Taller  Gal  Marry  Me* 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  Published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

All  the  gals  are  getting  married,  dropping  off  on  every 

side — 
Ah,  I  fear  too  long  I've  tarried,  seeking,  sighing  for  a 

bride — 

Seeking,  sighing  for  a  bride  ; 
Listen  now,  all  darkey  beauties,  I  am  handsome,  as  you 

see — 
Will  no  yaller  gal  marry,  marry,  will  no  yaller  gal 

marry  me  ? 

I  could  get  a  weeping-widow  almost  any  day,  of  course^ 
Or  a  lady  rendered  single,  by  a — by  a  late  divorce  ! 
But  I  want  a  pretty  rose-bud,  full  of  fun '  and  full  of 

glee- 
Will  no  yaller  gal  marry,  marry,  will  no  yaller  gal 

marry  me  ? 


16  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Oh  !  in  pity,  don't  deny  me,  let  me  end  this  weary  life  ; 
I  could  swim  the  wide  Atlantic,  could  I  thereby  gain  a 

wife; 
I'm  in  earnest,  I  am  pleading  here  upon  my  bended 

knee — 
Will  no  yaller  gal  marry,  marry,  will  no  yaller  gal 

marry  me  ? 

Slow. 

All  is  over,  I  am  married,  what  a  hasty  fool  was  I — 
Where's  the  end  of  all  creation,  let,  oh,  let  me  hither 

fly- 
Help  !  oh,  help  me,  Mister  Lawyer,  cut  the  rope  and 

set  me  free, 
I  will  sell  myself  forever,  if  you  will  unmarry  me ! 


Fare  You  Well! 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  hy  Colborn  & 
Field,  No.  154,  Main  Street,  Cincinnati. 

Hark !  my  love,  O  come  and  listen  ! 
The  evening  gale  is  sweetly  singing, 
The  stars  are  shining  on  the  river, 
The  moon  is  in  the  quiet  sky. 

Chorus.  Corne,  my  love,  unto  the  window, 
Listen  while  I  play  the  Juba, 
Then  I'll  float  away  down  the  river — 
O !  Fare  you  well ! 

Oh !  my  dear,  O,  do  come  listen, 
My  song  upon  the  night  air  stealing, 
Will  fill  thy  heart  with  sweetest  feeling 
While  I  sing  this  melody. 

Chorus.  Come,  my  love,  &c. 

Throw  them  eyes  down  on  thy  lover. 
From  thy  blooming  rosy  bower 
Give  this  dark  a  single  flower 
To  thy  memory. 

Chorus.  Come,  my  Jove,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  17 

The  evening  star  is  fast  a-waning, 
The  night  is  dark,  tlfe  clouds  are  raining, 
Here  thy  Sambo  stands  a-waiting — 
Hurry,  my  dearest  Juliana. 

Chorus.  Come,  my  love,  &e. 


Poor  Old  Jessy. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Lee  & 
Walker,  No.  188,  Chesnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

Old  Jessy  once  was  young  like  us, 

Could  hoe  the  cotton  well, 
But  now  he's  passing  away  from  us, 

Like  the  dew-drop  on  the  hill. 

Chorus.  Then  pity  poor  old  Jessy, 

And  wipe  the  tear-drop  from  your  eye, 
For  Jessy's  going  to  leave  us  soon 
And  in  the  ground  to  lie. 

Old  Jessy's  hair  is  grey  and  long 

Like  the  moss  upon  the  tree, 
And  his  teeth  dropp'd  out  of  the  old  jawbone; 

But  soon  he  will  be  free. 

Chorus.  Then  pity  poor  old  Jessy,  &c. 

Old  Jessy  can't  play  his  old  banjo, 

His  fingers  are  stiff  and  sore, 
They  tremble  so  the  bones  do  crack — 

He'll  play—  no — never  more. 

Chorus.  Then  pity  poor  old  Jessy,  &c. 

He  used  to  go  out  in  the  oyster-boat, 

Far,  far  away  from  shore; 
But  he  never  will  go  out  again — 

Echo  answers,  nevermore. 

Chorus.  Then  pity  poor  old  Jessy,  &c. 


18  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Take  Me  Home. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Fhth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Take  me  home  to  the  place  where  I  first  saw  the  light, 

To  the  sweet  sunny  South,  take  me  home, 
Where  the  mocking-bird  sung  me  to  rest  every  night — 

Ah  !  why  was  I  tempted  to  roam  ! 
I  think  with  regret  of  the  dear  home  I  left, 

Of  the  warm  hearts  that  sheltered  me  then, 
Of  the  wife,  and  the  dear  ones  of  whom  ITm  bereft, 

And  I  sigh  for  the  old  place  again. 

Chorus. 
Take  me  home  to  the  place  where  my  little  ones  sleep, 

Poor  massa  lies  buried  close  by, 
O'er  the  graves  of  the  loved  ones  I  long  to  weep, 

And  among  them  to  rest  when  I  die. 

Take  me  home  to  the  place  where  the  orange  trees  grow, 

To  my  cot  in  the  evergreen  shade, 
Where  the  flowers  on  the  river's  green  margin  may 
blow 

Their  sweets  on  the  bank  where  we  played. 
The  path  to  our  cottage  they  say  has  grown  green, 

And  the  place  is  quite  lonely  around, 
And  I  know  that  the  smiles  and  the  forms  I  have  seen, 

Now  lie  deep  iri  the  dark  mossy  ground. 

Chorus.  Take  me  home,  &e. 

Take  me  home,  let  me  see  what  is  left  that  I  knew — 

Can  it  be  that  the  old  house  is  gone  ? 
The  dear  friends  of  my  childhood  indeed  must  be  few, 

And  I  must  lament  all  alone. 
'  But  yet  I'll  return  to  the  place  of  my  birth, 

Where  my  children  have  played  at  the  door, 
Where  they  pulled  the  white  blossoms  that  garnished 

the  earth 
Which  will  echo  their  footsteps  no  more. 

Choru*.  Take  me  home,  &e. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  19 

Pompey's  Trip  to  New  York. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Henry 
M'Caffrey,  Baltimore. 

I  came  to  New  York  city,  a  month  or  two  ago, 

A-hunting  for  that  lady,  my  Aunty  Sarah  Rowe. 

I  saw  her  friends ;  they  said  she'd  gone  away, 

They  told  me  in  the  city  it  was  no  use  to  stay. 

She  take  away  the  dollars  and  put  them  in  her  pocket, 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  it,  and  there  she  safely  lock  it ; 

They  said    if  massa   come  for  me,  then  they  would 

quickly  meet 
And  make  a  lion  of  me,  and  give  me  enough  to  eat. 

Chorus. 

Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  my  Aunty  Sarah  Rowe  ! 
How   could   you   leave   the   country,   and   sarve   this 
darkey  so  ? 

They  treated  this  here  child  as  tho'  he  was  a  Turk, 
Then  told  me  for  to  leave  them  and  go  away  to  work; 
I  couldn't  get  no  work,  I  couldn't  get  no  dinner, 
And  then  I  wish  this  fugitive  was  back  in  old  Virginny. 
Oh !  when  I  was  a  picanin,  old  Uncle  Tom  would  say, 
Be  true  unto  your  master  and  never  run  away. 
He  told  me  this  at  home,  he  told  me  so  at  parting, 
Pomp,  don't  you  trust  the  white  folks,  for  they  are  quite 

unsartin. 
Chorus.  Oh!  oh!  oh!  &e. 

Old  massa's  very  kind,  old  missus\gentle  too, 
And  much  I  love  my  Dinah,  in  old  Virginny  true. 
Now  I'll  go  back  and  stay  there,  and  never  more  will 

roam — 
Lor'  bless  the  Southern  ladies,  and  my  old  Southern 

home. 
But  don't  come  back,  Aunt  Sarah,  in  England  make  a 

fuss, 

Go  talk  against  your  country,  put  money  in  your  purse, 
And  when  we  happy  darkies  you  pity  in  your  prayer, 
Oh !  don't  forget  the  WHITE  SLAVES  that's  starvin'  over 

there ! 
Chorus.  Oh  !  oh !  oh !  &c. 


20  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


The  Old  Churchyard. 

Music,  "with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Steward 
&  Co.,  No.  210,  Chesnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

Tread  softly  round,  here  lie  the  dead 

Beneath  the  grassy  mound, 
And  death  is  here,  in  silence  spread — 

All  is  gloom  around ; 
Tread  softly  then,  though  cold  it  blows, 

All  must  soon  decay, 
And  the  folks  I  loved,  beneath  repose — - 

They  have  passed  away. 

Chorus.  Qh,  when  I  lay  me  down  to  rest 

In  the  ground  so  cold  and  hard, 

Bury  me  by  the  folks  I  love  the  best, 

Bury  me  in  the  old  churchyard. 

Cold  winter  made  the  old  house  creak, 

For  all  was  dark  outside, 
And  tears  roll  down  my  mother's  cheek, 

Sitting  by  the  fireside. 
Of  another  home  she  oft  would  tell, 

And  gently  shake  her  hand, 
A  home  where  all  good  darkies  dwell 

Far  in  another  land. 

Chorus.  Oh,  when  I  lay  me  down  to  rest,  &c. 

Yes,  years  have  fled  since  childhood's  time 

And  I  was  happy  then, 
The  churchyard's  wall  I  used  to  climb 

With  my  brother  Ben. 
In  the  old  churchyard  he  sleeps 

Beside  my  mother  dear, 
The  churchyard  bell  tolls,  the  darkies  weei 

For  the  folks  that  are  sleeping  here. 

Chorus.  Oh,  when  I  lay  me  down  to  rest,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  21 


Sally  Primer. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  Is7ew  York. 

I  courted  Sally  Primer,  a  little  while  ago ; 

I  thought  we  were  exactly  matched, 
But  found  it  was  no  go. 

I  told  her  I  would  hang  myself  if  she  didn't  marry 

me — , 
She,  smiling,  turned  to  me  and  said : 

Marry  you ! — why,  no  "  sir-ee." 

Chorus.  Lovely  Sally,  charming  Sally, 
Do  not  treat  him  so, 
For  if  you  do  he'll  go  and  drown, 
Or  shoot  himself  I  know. 


I  took  my  Sally  walking  out,  one  pleasant  afternoon, 

And  down  Broadway  we  went  so  gay, 
To  Taylor's  new  saloon. 

I  read  the  "bill  of  fare,"  and  asked,  What  will  you 

have,  my  dear  ? 
She  eat  three  stews  with  six  ice  creams, 

And  a  quart  of  lager  beer. 

Chorus.  Lovely  Sally,  &c. 


To  make  her  presents,  I  went  and  pawned  the  coat 

from  off  my  back, 

And  when  she'd  got  them  all,  she  took 
And  then  gave  me  the  sack. 

They  say  she's  got  another  "  beau,"   and  sweetly 

smiles  upon  him, 
But  if  he  ever  marries  her 

May  the  Lord  havevmercy  on  him. 

Chorus.  Lovely  Sally,  &c. 


22  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

My  Childhood's  Happy  Home. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firtb, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh,  give  me  back  my  home  again,  my  childhood's 

happy  dream, 
When  onward,  free  from  grief  or  pain,  flowed  life's 

untroubled  stream — 
Tho'  borne  across  the  foaming  sea,  to  distant  climes  I 

roam, 
Still   memory  fondly  clings   to   thee,  my  childhood's 

happy  home. 

Chorus. 

My  home,  my  home,  my  childhood's  happy  home, 
Still   memory  fondly  clings    to   thee,  my  childhood's 

happy  home. 

And  when  my  toilsome  journey's  o'er,  and  life  draws 

near  its  close, 
I'll   turn   unto   my  native   shore,  to  seek  my  wished 

repose — 
And   then   thro'  weary  sorrows   passed,  the   evening 

bright  will  come, 
And  then  rny  sun  will  set  at  last,  in  childhood's  happy 

home. 

Chorus. 

My  home,  my  home,  my  childhood's  happy  home — 
And  then  my  sun  will  set  at  last,  in  childhood's  happy 

home. 


Emma  Gray. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Henry 
M'Caffrey,  Baltimore. 

Fairest  coloured  blossom, 

Louisiana's  pride, 
Fairer  is  my  Emma  Gray 

Than  all  else  beside. 
Ever,  ever  happy, 

Joyous  all  the  day, 
Venus  never  was  so  fair 

As  my  dear  Emma  Gray, 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  Ever,  ever  happy, 

Joyous  all  the  day, 
Brighter  than  the  morninjr, 
Is  my  lovely  Emma  Gray. 

Teeth  of  pearly  whiteness, 

Eyes  of  darkest  hue, 
Could  you  see  my  Emma  dear, 

You  would  love  her  too. 
Sing-ing-,  ever  singing, 

In  so  sweet  a  lay, 
Birds  may  learn  their  gayest  notes 

Of  my  dear  Emma  Gray. 

Chorus.  Ever,  ever  happy,  &c. 

'Twas  long  ago  I  left  her, 

Oh !  how  my  heart  did  swell, 
When  taking  Emma  by  the  hand 

I  said,  My  love,  farewell. 
To-morrow  I  must  leave  you, 

I  can  no  longer  stay ; 
I'll  go  to  Louisiana  State 

To  find  my  Emma  Gray. 

Chorus.  Ever,  ever  happy,  &c. 


Katy  Darling's  Farewell  to  Dermot. 

(SEQUEL  TO  KATY  DARLING.) 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  Published  by  Iftrth. 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

They  tell  me  I  am  dying,  dearest  Dermot, 

And  my  heart  with  the  sorrow  is  sore, 
And  my  eyes  with  bitter  tears  are  brimming 

When  I  think  I  shall  see  thee  no  more. 
Oh,  we  dreamed  not  when  we  parted 

By  the  wicket  in  the  lane, 
When  the  wild  birds  were  singing  in  the  morning^ 

"  That  we  should  never  meet  again." 


24  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  Fare  thee  well !  faree  thee  well ! 

For  I'm  going  far  away,  dearest  Dermot, 
Far  away  from  the  bright  world  and  thee. 
I  hear  the  angels  singing  up  in  heaven, 
And  I  know  they  are  waiting  for  me. 

Thou'lt  not  forget  the  past,  dearest  Dermot, 

Nor  that  night  in  the  sweet  summer  tide 
When  I  listened  to  thy  words,  low  and  loving, 

Till  I  promised  to  be  thy  bride. 
And  oft  in  the  purple  twilight, 

When  the  flowers  are  all  asleep, 
And  the  pure  stars  are  looking  on  thee  kindly, 

*'  Thou  wilt  sit  by  my  grave  and  weep." 

Chorus.  Fare  thee  well !  fare  thee  well ! 

But  I'll  not  forget  thee,  dearest  Dermot, 
»         And  my  soul,  ever  loving  and  free, 

Will  be  stealing  from  the  home  of  angels 
To  the  earth  with  a  blessing  for  thee. 

Thou'st  been  to  me  a  treasure,  dearest  Dermot, 

Thy  love  was  the  light  of  my  life, 
And  the  last  joy  that  withered  in  my  bosom 

Was  the  hope  of  becoming  thy  wife. 
Oh  !  how  can  I  leave  thee,  darling, 

And  never  again  see  thy  face  ! 
Even  death  would  be  welcome,  dearest  Dermot, 

"  If  he  found  me  in  thy  embrace." 

Chorus.  Fare  thee  well !  fare  thee  well ! 
But  I  will  not  forget  thee,  &c. 


Old  Jumbo  Gum,  My  Joe. 

Now  gem'en  of  the  coloured  race, 

I  pray  you'll  attention  give, 
While  I  'spress  this  'stressing  'telligence 

That  happen'd  where  I  live. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  25 

Way  down  in  Canebreak  Hollow, 
Where  the  'possum  come  and  go, 

In  the  evening1,  at  the  close  of  day, 
Lived  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 

Chorus.  Old  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe, 
Old  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 


When  Adam  was  created  man, 

And  Eve  was  made  his  brother, 
And  Cain,  the  tiller  of  the  ground, 

For  them  to  eat  the  fodder, 
'Twas  then  the  great  delusion  came 

That  filled  the  earth  with  woe, 
But  none  was  there  as  could  compare 

With  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 

Chorus.  Old  Jumbo  Gum,  &c. 

Now  Jumbo  Gum,  as  you  must  know, 

Was  relation  to  my  mother, 
And  uncle  to  my  sister's  aunt, 

And  cousin  to  my  father ; 
He  was  very  much  respected  there, 

As  genus  is,  you  know, 
And  a  near  relation  to  mysel 

Was  Jumbo  Gurn,  my  Joe. 

Chorus.  Old  Jumbo  Gum,  &c. 


Old  Jumbo  Gum  he  'dopted  me 

When  I  was  a  little  nigger. 
And  made  for  me  the  good  corn-cake, 

Until  I  grew  much  bigger. 
And  when  old  age  had  frost  his  pate 

And  made  it  white  as  snow, 
I  loved  him  as  a  father's  child, 

Old  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 

Chorus.  Old  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 
3 


26  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

One  evening,  on  returning-  home 

From  cutting-  sugar-cane, 
There  lay  the  poor  old  darkey 

With  the  fever  on  his  brain ; 
And  through  the  live-long  night 

Was  filled  with  pain  and  woe, 
And  'fore  the  dawn  of  morning  came 

Died  Jumbo  Gum,  my  Joe. 

Chorus.  Old  Jumbo  Gum,  &c. 


Amy  Snow  is  Sleeping. 

Oh  !  Amy  Snow  is  sleeping  now 

Where  the  lovely  willows  wave ; 
Beneath  the  greensward,  gently  there 

I  made  her  quiet  grave. 
Tender  and  kind  I  laid  her  down 

To  take  her  long,  last  sleep, 
And  frantic,  in  my  grief  I  knelt, 

Beside  her  there  to  weep. 

Chorus.  For  Amy  Snow,  for  Amy  Snow, 

My  tears  they  fell  in  vain, 
And  useless  are  they  all,  I  know, 
To  bring  her  back  again. 

She  sleeps,  and  now  will  never  wake, 

Although  I  call  her  oft, 
Beseech  her  by  the  might  of  love 

With  gentle  words  and  soft, 
That  she  will  speak  cnce  more  to  me 

The  words  I  love  to  hear ; 
The  echo  of  my  grief  is  all 

That  falls  upon  my  ear. 

Chorus.  For  Amy  Snow,  &c. 

And  often  at  the  midnight  hour, 
With  chill  winds  rushing  by, 

I've  laid  me  down  upon  her  grave 
And  prayed  that  I  might  die — 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  27 

Have  clasped  with  agony  the  earth 

That  covered  that  loved  head, 
Which  slept  unheeding  of  my  grief, 

Among  the  solemn  dead. 

Chorus.  For  Amy  Snow,  &c. 

She  sleeps,  she  sleeps,  sweet  be  her  rest, 

And  waving  branches  fair 
Shall  kiss  the  dew  from  off  her  grave, 

And  shed  their  fragrance  there. 
And  when  my  life  has  passed  away, 

Then  gently  lay  me  low 
Beneath  the  willows  silently, 

By  my  loved  Amy  Snow. 

Chorus.  For  Amy  Snow,  &c. 


The  Fancy  Coloured  Bull. 

Quartette:  Oh!  what  enchanting  pleasure, 

On  the  light  bombastic  toe 
To  dance  the  Polka  measure, 

Or  through  the  waltz  to  go ! 
'Specially  with  the  Venus 

That  holds  your  heart  in  thrall, 
What  sweet  words  pass  atween  us 

At  the  Colour'd  Fancy  Ball. 
Solo :  Now  then,  gentlemen,  please  to  be  quiet ; 

The  ball  is  going  to  begin, 
All  attempt  at  a  muss  or  a  riot 

Will  cost  you  a  kick  on  the  shin. 
Take  your  places  and  mind  that  your  heel 

Don't  cause  the  fair  ladies  a  fall, 
Or  the  vengeance  of  all  you  will  feel 

That's  'sembled  at  this  fancy  ball. 
Glee :  Now  the  music  sweetly  sounds, 

Bright  eyes  are  glancing, 
Chassey,  croisey,  round  and  round — 

Oh  !  the  joys  of  dancing ! 


28  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Now  is  the  time  to  whisper  soft  things, 

Sigh  as  if  going  to  expire, 
Talk  of  that  little  blind  boy  that's  got  wings, 

And  swear  that  your  heart  is  on  fire. 
Quartette :  Oh,  what  enchanting  pleasure, 

On  the  light  bombastic  toe 
To  dance  the  Polka  measure, 

Or  through  the  waltz  to  go. 

Observe  that  lovely  Juno 

With  her  luxuriant  head  of  wool ; 
She  beats  all  the  gals  that  you  know, 

I  guess,  above  a  jug  full. 
Just  look  how  she  toes  and  heels  it 

As  she  ballansays  to  the  crowd, 
And  that  coloured  gent  seems  to  feel  it, 

For  no  gobbler  was  ever  more  proud. 
Solo :  See,  he  offers  a  glass  of  ice  cream 

With  a  real  silver  spoon  just  stuck  in  it — 
She  takes  it — but  surely  I  dream, 

For,  by  golly,  'tis  gone  in  a  minute  ! 
Ah,  she  knows  what  ice  cream  is,  no  doubt, 

For  she  makes  it  herself  ev'ry  day ; 
And  I  know  that  gent  totes  it  about, 

For  I  saw  him  last  night  in  Broadway. 
Glee :  See  that  nig  in  the  blue  satin  vest, 

With  his  heel  sticking  out  just  a  feet,  sar, 
Cutting  such  capers,  and  doing  his  best 

To  charm  every  gal  that  he  meets,  sar. 
Such  a  darkey  as  that  has  no  right  at  this  ball, 

Let's  tell  him  to  quit,  and  be  off; 
He'd  two  years  in  Sing  Sing,  and  came  out  last  fall, 

For  picking  up  things  on  the  wharf. 
And  now  he  takes  his  pleasure 

On  his  light  bombastic  toes. 
And  dances  the  Polka  measure, 

Or  through  the  waltz  he  goes. 

Solo:  See  that  policeman  just  entered  the  place, 

And  he's  caught  that  there  nig  by  the  collar, 
And  the  gals  all  turn  pule  in  the  face, 
And,  golly,  d'ye  hour  how  they  holler  ! 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  29 

Serves  him  right,  he  had  no  business  here, 

To  turn  up  his  nose  at  his  betters ! 
To  the  Tombs  now  he  goes  offj  'tis  clear, 
*••  •         To  have  hajrtfs  and  feet  put  in  fetters. 
.Glee :  Juno's  faulted  quite  away, 

Like  ve^  small  taters  she  feels, 
To  see  Massa  Quashee,  the  pride  of  the  day, 

In  the  jug1  to  be  laid  by  the  heels. 
But  she'll  soon  be  better,  quite  well  I  suppose, 

For  see,  Sam  is  biting  her  thumb, 
And  holding  a  lighted  cigar  to  her  nose, 

And  down  her  throat  pouring  some  rum. 
Oh  !  what  enchanting  pleasure 

To  dance  at  a  fancy  ball, 
For  joy  it  gives  beyond  all  measure, 

Next  day  on  your  charmer  to  call. 


Wait  for  the  Wagon. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  James  E. 
Boswell,  Baltimore. 

Will  you  come  with  me,  my  Phillis  dear,  to  yon  blue 

mountain/free, 
Where   the  , blossoms   smell  the   sweetest,  come,  rove 

along  with  me  ? 

Tt's  ev'ry  Sunday  morning  when  I  am  by  your  side, 
We'll  jump  into  the  wagon,  and  all  take  a  ride. 

Chorus.  Wait  for  the  wagon, 
Wait  for  the  wagon, 
Wait  for  the  wpgon, 
And  we'll  all  take  a  ride. 

Where  the  river  runs  like  silver,  and  the  birds  they 

sing  so  sweet, 

I  have  a  cabin,  Phillis,  and  something  good  to  eat. 
Come,  listen  to  rny  story,  it  will  relieve  my  heart, 
So  jump  intc  the  wagon,  and  off  we  will  start. 

Chorus.  Wait  for  the  wagon,  &c. 


30  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Do  you  believe,  my  Phillis  dear,  old  Mike,  with  all  his 

wealth, 
Can  make  you  half  so  happy  as   I   with  youth  and 

health? 

We'll  have  a  little  farm,  a  horse,  a  pig1  and  cow, 
And  you  will  mind  the  dairy,  while  I  do  guide  the 

plough. 

Chorus.  Wait  for  the  wagon,  &c. 

Your  lips  are  red  as  poppies,  your  hair  so  slick  and 

neat, 

All  braided  up  with  dahlias,  and  hollyhocks  so  sweet. 
It's  ev'ry  Sunday  morning,  when  I  am  by  your  side, 
We'll  jump  into  the  wagon,  and  all  take  a  ride. 

Chorus.  Wait  for  the  wagon,  &c. 

Together  on  life's  journey  we'll  travel  till  we 
And  if  we  have  no  trouble,  we'll  reach  the  h 
Then  come  with  me,  sweet  Phillis,  my  dear,  my 

bride, 
We'll  jump  into  the  wagon,  and  all  take  a  ride. 

Chorus.  Wait  for  the  wagon,  &c. 


The  Yaller  Gal  with  the  Josey  on. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte   accompaniment,  published  by  F.  D. 
Benteen,  Baltimore. 

I  saw  a  dashing  yaller  gal, 

One  day  upon  the  levee ; 
Her  form  was  round,  her  step  was  light, 

But,  wa'nt  her  feet  so  heavy  ? 
She  cast  a  tender  glance  on  me 

And  then  my  heart  was  gone — 
Oh  !  she  was  the  tearing  yaller  gal, 

That  had  a  Josey  on  ! 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  31 

Chorus.  Oh !  yes,  we  all  remember  her, 

She  used  to  hoe  the  corn ; 
But  she's  the  darling1  yaller  gal, 
That  had  a  Josey  on ! 

I  tipped  my  hat,  and  bowed  so  low, 

That  I  could  hardly  straig-hten ; 
And  den  I  ax'd  her  quite  perlite, 

That  I  for  her  was  waitin'. 
She  blushed  quite  blue,  and  then  she  said, 

"  Your'e  quite  a  dandy,  John  ;" 
Oh !  she  was  the  tearing1  yaller  gal, 

That  had  a  Josey  on  ! 

Chorus.  Oh !  yes,  we  all  remember  her,  &c 

I  married  her  that  very  day, 

A  week  we  lived  in  clover; 
But  soon  my  loved  one  ran  away 

With  Joe,  the  cattle-drover. 
And  now  she  troubles  me  no  more, 

Good  Lor' — I'm  glad  she's  gone  ! 
For  she  was  the  tearing1  yaller  gal, 

That  had  a  Josey  on  ! 

Chorus.  Oh  !  yes,  we  all  remember  her,  &c. 


The  Jolly  Old  Crow. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published   by  Lee  & 
Walker,  Philadelphia. 

On  the  limb  of  an  oak  sat  a  jolly  old  crow, 
And  he  chattered  away  with  glee,  glee,  glee ; 

As  he  watched  the  farmer  come  out  to  sow, 
Says  he,  This  is  all  for  me,  for  me ! 

.  Chorus. 
Look  !  look  !  how  he  scatters  his  seed  all  round,  round, 

round, 

He  is  wonderful  kind  to  the  poor,  poor,  poor. 
If  he'd  empty  it  down  in  a  big-  pile  on  the  ground, 
We  could  find  it  much  letter  I'm  sure,  I'm  sure. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

I  have  watched  all  the  tricks  of  this  wonderful  man 
Who  has  such  regard  for  the  crow,  the  crow, 

He  lays  out  his  grounds  in  a  regular  plan, 
And  plants  all  his  corn  in  a  row,  row,  row. 

Chorus.  Look  !  look  !  &c. 

He  must  have  a  very  great  fancy  for  me, 

For  he  has  tried  to  entrap  me  enough,  enough, 

But  I've  measured  the  distance  as  well  as  he, 
And  when  he  comes,  I'm  off,  I'm  off. 

Chorus.  Look  !  look ! — Caw  !  caw  !  &c. 


The  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Away  from  Mississippi's  vale, 
With  my  old  hat  there  for  a  sail, 
I  crossed  upon  a  cotton-bale 
To  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus,  Oh !   Brown  Rosey,  Rose  of  Alabama, 

A  sweet  tobacco  posey  is  the  Rose  of  Alao«»,.ia. 

I  landed  on  a  sandy  bank, 

I  sat  upon  a  hollow  plank, 

And  there  I  made  the  banjo  twank 

For  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 

Oh  !  after  d'rec'ly,  bye-and-bye, 
The  moon  rose  white  as  Rosey's  eye ; 
Then  like  a  young  coon  out  so  sly, 
Stole  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 

The  river  rolled,  the  crickets  sing, 
The  lightning-bug  he  flashed  his  wing, 
Then  like  a  rope  my  arms  I  fling 
Round  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  33 

I  hug  so  long  I  cannot  tell. 
For  Rosey  seemed  to  like  it  well; 
My  banjo  in  the  river  fell, 
Oh  !  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 

'Like  alligator  after  prey, 
I  jump'd  in,  but  it  float  away, 
But  all  the  time  it  seem'd  to  say, 
Oh  !  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 

And  every  night,  in  moon  or  shower, 
To  hunt  that  l^anjo  for  an  hour, 
1  meet  my  sweet  tobacco  flower, 
My  Rose  of  Alabama. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Brown  Rosey,  &c. 


Rosa  Leer  or  Don't  be  Foolish,  Joe. 

When  I  lived  in  Tennessee, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
There  lived,  too,  sweet  Rosa  Lee, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee. 
Eyes  as  dark  as  winter  night, 
Lips  as  red  as  berry  bright, 
When  first  I  did  her  wooing  go, 
She  said,  Now  don't  be  foolish,  Joe  ! 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
Happy  then  in  Tennessee, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
'Neath  the  wild  Banana  tree. 

My  story  yet  is  to  be  told, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
Rosa  one  day  caught  a  cold, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee. 


34  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Sent  for  doctor,  sent  for  nurse, 
Doctor  came,  and  she  grew  worse, 
I  tried  to  make  her  smile,  but  no, 
She  said,  Now  don't  forget  me,  Joe ! 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
Sad  was  I  in  Tennessee, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
'Neath  the  wild  Banana  tree. 

They  gave  her  up,  no  power  could  sa\e, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee. 
She  whisper'd,  Follow  to  the  grave, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee. 

I  took  her  hand,  'twas  cold  as  death, 
S.o  cold,  I  scarce  could  draw  my  breath, 
She  saw  my  tears  in  sorrow  flow, 
Then  said,  Farewell,  my  dearest  J«e  1 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee, 
Rosa  sleeps  in  Tennessee, 

U-li,  a-li,  o-la,  ee. 
'Neath  the  wild  Banana  tree. 


*Our  Hut  on  the  Old  Plantation. 

Far  away  down  is  the  good  old  farm, 

Where  we  darkies  used  to  dwell ; 
Oh !  how  we've  often  longed  to  see 

The  place  we  loved  so  well. 
There  first  we  saw  the  morning  sun, 

As  it  lighted  up  the  sky  ; 
Oh !  take  us  back  to  the  sweet  old  spot, 

For  there  we  all  wish  to  die. 

Chorus.  Then  darkies  sing,  as  on  we  roam, 

And  tell  throughout  creation 

The  happy  times  we  had  at  home, 

Our  hut  on  the  old  plantation. 

Father  and  mother,  old  now  and  gray, 
Still  do  hoe  and  shell  the  corn, 

While  we,  their  children,  work  far  away 
From  the  spot  where  we  were  born. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  35 

From  our  old  massa  'twas  hard  to  part, 
He  always  was  so  good  and  kind, 

And  could  we  search  the  world  all  o'er 
His  like  we  ne'er  should  find. 

Chorus.  Then  darkies  sing,  &c. 

Oh,  'tis  many  years  that  we've  been  free, 

But  here  no  longer  we  can  stay, 
Our  hearts  they  pine  for  our  own  little  hut, 

Down  in  the  South,  far  away. 
When  will  the  happy  time  come  round 

When  we  darkies  may  go  home, 
And  from  that  blessed  good  old  farm, 

We  never  more  need  roam  ? 
Chorus.  Then  darkies  sing,  &c. 


The  Dandy  Broadway  Swell. 

Music,  "with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  H.  Watars, 
Broadway,  New  York. 

They  may  talk  of  dandy  darkies, 

But  they  never  see  this  coon 
A  promenading  Broadway, 

On  a  Sunday  afternoon. 
I'm  the  sole  delight  of  yaller  gals — 

The  envy  of  the  men — 
Observe  this  child  when  he  turns  out, 

And  talk  of  dandies  then. 

Chorus.  For  I'm  the  grit,  the  go,  the  cheese, 

As  every  one  may  tell ; 
The  darkey  fair  sex  I'm  sure  to  please ; 
I'm  the  dandy  Broadway  swell. 

My  new  sack-coat  is  padded, 

Just  to  make  my  shoulders  broad : 

You'd  think  I  was  a  Jupiter — 
You  would,  upon  my  word. 
4 


36  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

I  sometimes  wear  mustaches, 
But  I  lost  them  t'other  day ; 

For  the  glue  was  bad,  the  wind  was  high, 
And  so  they  blowed  away. 

Chorus.  For  I'm  the  grit,  &c. 

I  sports  a  double  eye-glass, 

That  shuts  up  in  a  case; 
A  black-silk  stock,  because  it  suits 

The  'spression  of  this  face. 
My  linen  cuffs  and  collar,  too, 

Look  beautifully  white  ; 
And  so,  by  gosh,  I  think  they  ought, 

For  I  wash  'em  ev'ry  night. 

Chorus.  For  I'm  the  grit,  &c. 

I  wears  a  gold-wash'd  guard-chain, 

That  I  bought  of  Uncle  Pete ; 
v  But  I  left  the  watch  for  safety 

With  a  man  in  Chatham  Street. 
With  gloves,  and  cane,  and  fancy  vest, 

French  pantaloons  and  hat, 
With  grand  imperial,  which  I  cut 

From  the  tail  of  our  black  cat. 

Chords.  For  I'm  the  grit,  &e. 

I  rather  think  Miss  Chloe  White 

Is  growing  quite  forlorn  ; 
I  hear  it  in  her  dulcet  voice, 

As  she  sweetly  cries  "  Hot-corn !" 
She's  up  to  the  eyes  in  love  with  me, 

And  so  are  twenty  more, 
For  I'm  such  a  gay  deceiver 

As  they  never  saw  before. 

For  I'm  the  grit,  &c. 

This  darkey's  name  is  Caesar 
Mars  Napoleon  Sinclair  Brown; 

The  biggest  bug,  de  greatest  coon, 
That  ever  walk'd  this  town. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  37 

So  take  care,  gals,  and  mind  yourselves, 

For  if  I  roll  this  eye, 
You'll  give  a  shake,  a  sigh  and  groan, 

And  then  fall  down  and  die. 
Chorus.  For  I'm  the  grit,  &c. 


Dine  and  Joe. 

You  are  going  o'er  the  mountain, 

Far  away  from  your  poor  Dine ; 
I  hope  you'll  ne'er  forget  the  love 

Of  her  you  leave  behind. 
Oh  !   I  will  dream  of  you,  my  love, 

Wherever  you  may  go  ; 
The  tears  will  flow  into  my  eyes 

When  I  think  of  you,  dear  Joe. 
When  you  promenade  the  streets,  Joe, 

Or  in  the  ball-room  shine, 
Oh  !  will  you  think  of  her  that  loves 

And  bears  you  in  her  mind  ? 
With  a  lady  on  your  arm, 

Or  sitting  on  your  knee, 
"  You'll  be  making  love  to  her  you're  with," 

And  never  think  of  me. 

Oh  !  I'll  think  of  thee,  dear  Dine, 

Wherever  I  may  roam ; 
My  heart  it  will  fly  back  to  you 

And  make  me  think  of  home. 
But  if  fortune  leads  the  way, 
,  You'll  be  ever  in  my  mind ; 
Oh  !  happy,  happy  will  I  be 

When  I  call  you  wife,  dear  Dine. 
If  I  was  king  of  Africa, 

I  would  never  from  you  roam ; 
I'd  make  you  queen  of  this  darkey's  heart, 

And  always  stay  at  home. 
Oh  !  my  heart  with  love  is  breaking,  Dine, 

I  cannot  leave  you  so — 
On  that  she  gave  me  one  fond  kiss, 

And  said,  Farewell,  dear  Joe-! 


38  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Dearest  Mae. 

Music,  with  Piano  Fortp  areompaniment,  published  by  Peters, 
Cincinnati,  Ohio. 

Now,  darkies,  come  and  listen,  a  story  I'll  relate, 
It  happened  in  a  valley  in  the  old  Carolina  State. 
It  was  down  in  the  meadow  I  used  to  make  the  hay ; 
I  always  work  the  harder  when  I  think  of  lovely  Mae. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Mae,  you're  lovely  as  the  day, 
Your  eyes  so  bright,  they  shine  at  night, 
When  the  moon  am  gone  away. 

My  massa  gave  me  holiday,  I  wish  he'd  give  me  more, 
I  thanked  him  very  kindly  as  I  shoved  my  boat  from 

shore, 
And  down  the  river  paddled,  with  a  heart  so  light  and 

free, 
To  the  cottage  of  my  lovely  Mae,  I  long'd  so  much  to 

see. 
Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Mae,  &c. 

On  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  the  trees  they  hang  so  low, 
When  the  coons  among  the  branches  play,  arid  the  minx 

he  keeps  below, 

Oh  !  there  is  the  spot,  and  Mae,  she  looks  so  very  sweet, 
Her  eyes  they  sparkle  like  the  stars,  and  her  lips  are 

red  as  beet. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Mae,  &c. 


Beneath  the  shady  old  oak  tree,  I've  sat  for  many  an 

hour, 
As  happy  as   the  little    bird  that  sports   among   the 

flowers ; 
But,  dearest  Mae,  I  left  her ;  she  cried  when  both  we 

parted, 
I  gave  her  a  long  and  farewell  kiss,  and  back  to  massa 

started. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Mae,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  39 

My  master  then  was  taken  sick,  and  poor  old  man  he 

died, 
And  I  was  sold,  way  down  below,  close  by  the  river 

side  ; 
When  lovely  Mae  did  hear  the  news,  she  wilted  like  a 

flower, 
And  now  lies  low,  beneath  the  tree  where  the  owl  hoots 

every  hour. 

Chorus.  Oh,  dearest  Mae,  &c. 


The  Old  Cottage  Clock. 

MUFIC,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Henry 
M'Caffrey,  Baltimore. 

Oh  !  the  old,  old  clock,  of  the  household  stock, 

Was  the  brightest  thing  and  neatest ; 
Its  hands,  though  old,  had  a  touch  of  gold, 

And  its  chime  still  rung  the  sweetest; 
'Twas  a  monitor,  too,  though  its  words  were  few, 

Yet  they  lived  through  nations  altered ; 
And  its  voice,  still  strong,  warned  old  and  young, 

When  the  voice  of  friendship  faltered. 

Chorus. 
"Tick — tick  !"  it  said  ;  "quick,  quick  to  bed, 

For  ten  I've  given  warning ; 
Up,  up,  and  go,  or  else,  you  know, 

You'll  never  rise  soon  in  the  morning !" 


A  friendly  voice  was  that  old,  old  clock, 

As  it  stood  in  the  corner  smiling, 
And  blessed  the  time,  with  a  merry  chirne, 

The  wintry  hours  beguiling. 
But  a  cross  old  voice  was  that  tiresome  old  clock, 

As  it  called  at  daybreak  boldly, 
When  the  dawn  looked  gray  o'er  the  misty  way, 

And  the  early  air  blew  coldly. 

•4 


40  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus. 
"Tick — tick  I"  it  said  ;  "quick  out  of  bed, 

For  five  I've  given  warning"; 
You'll  never  have  health,  you'll  never  have  wealth, 

Unless  you're  up  soon  in  the  morning !" 


Still  hourly  the  sound  goes  round  and  round, 

With  a  tone  that  ceases  never, 
While  tears  are  shed  for  the  bright  days  fled, 

And  the  old  friends  lost  forever ! 
Its  heart  beats  on,  though  hearts  are  gone 

That  warmer  beat  and  stronger — 
Its  hands  still  move,  though  hands  we  love 

Are  clasped  on  earth  no  longer ! 

Chorus. 
"  Tick— tick  !"  it  said  ;  "  to  the  church-yard  bed, 

The  grave  hath  given  warning  ! 
Then  up  and  rise,  and  look  to  the  skies, 

And  prepare  for  a  heavenly  morning  !" 


Coloured  Fugitive's  Lament. 

I  went  from  the  great  house  down  to  the  kitchen, 
For  to  get  a  knot  of  light-wood,  for  to  see  to  go  a-fishin'. 
I  ran  to  the  river,  and  I  hop  into  my  coonah — 
The  first  thing   I   ran  afoul  of  was  a  little   Yankee 
schooner. 


Massa  Yankee  he  came  running  out  to  see  what's  goin' 

forward, 
And  he  'suade  me  for  to  go  with  him  and  travel  in  the 

nor'ard, 
Where  he  told  me  that  the  black  folks  are  freer  than 

the  white, 
For  they  sleep  all  the  day-time  and  frolic  all  the  night 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  41 

And  he'd  'sure  me,  if  I  ran  away  and  got  among  the 

Quakers, 
That  I  would  have  a  tract  of  land  of  several  hundred 

acres. 
So  Mas'  Yankee  hid  me  in  the  hold,  and  piled  the 

onions  'pon  me ; 
They  fairly  took  my  breath  away,  and  made  my  eye- 

balls  burn  me. 


I  work'd  that  vessel  up  the  bay,  I  pull'd  the  rope  and 

sail — 

Massa  Yankee  introduced  me  to  the  cat-o'-nine-tail ; 
He  'scharged  me  on  the  wharf,  and  call'd  me  bad  black 

man, 
And  he  never  gave  me  one  red  cent  to  buy  a  little 

dram. 


And  he  said  that  if  I  cut  up  shines,  and  ask'd  him  for 
the  pay, 

That  he'd  notify  old  massa  for  to  come  and  take  me 
'way — 

So  I  hung  about  the  market,  and  I  lived  on  cabbage- 
stalk, 

Till  I  got  so  goramity  weak,  I  'clare,  I  hardly  walk. 


I  sleep  into  a  cellar,  where  there's  twenty  darkies  more  ; 
You  would  think  'twas  smokey  moty,  if  you(was  to  hear 

them  snore — 

I  constant  getting  sick,  and  I  think  I'm  getting  sicker  ; 
(Young  massa  gave  me  picayune,  to  buy  a  glass  of 

liquor.) 

But  I  wish  that  I  was  back  again  with  old  massa  on 

the  bay, 
For  I  never  knowed  I  was  a  fool,  till  since  I  runried 

away; 

For  I  never  wanted  victuals,  or  I  never  wanted  clothes, 
And  I  never  hurt  myself  with  work,  that,  goramity 

knows ! 


42  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


Linda's  Gone  to  Baltimore. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  New  York. 

Oh  !  Linda's  gone  to  Baltimore 

To  stay  a  week  or  two, 
And  till  she  comes  safe  home  again, 

I  don't  know  what  to  do. 
I  take  the  banjo  on  my  knee, 

But  cannot  bear  to  play, 
For  music  only  makes  me  sad, 

When  Linda's  gone  away. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  my  heart  is  very  lonely 

All  the  night  and  day; 
For  everything  seems  sad  and  drear,  s 
When  Linda's  gone  away. 


I  think  of  all  the  olden  times 

We've  had  when  she  was  here ; 
I  did  not  know  'till  she  was  gone 

That  she  was  half  so  dear. 
The  flowers  are  blooming  all  around, 

And  all  but  me  are  gay, 
For  all  the  time  I  think  or  dream 

Of  Linda,  far  away. 

Chorus.  Oh  !   my  heart  is  very  lonely,  &c. 


The'  many  years  have  passed  and  gone 

Since  we  were  in  our  prime, 
I  love  her  more  as  on  we  roam 

Adowri  the  vale  of  Time! 
How  very  much  she  thinks  of  me 

I  should  not  dare  to  say, 
But,  oh  !  it  almost  breaks  my  heart 

When  Linda's  gone  away. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  my  heart  is  very  lonely,  &c. 


I 

CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Here  Goes  the  Corn. 

Come,  listen,  all   you  Northerners,  while    I   do  just 

relate, 

What  fun  we  darkies  surely  have,  in  old  Virginny  State. 
'Tis  true  we  work  and  then  we  eat,  and  that  does  make 

us  fa  t ; 
At  night,  we  sing-  and  dance,  and  play,  and  all  such 

things  as  that. 

Chorus 
Then  sing  aloud,  and  let  your  notes  be  on  the  breezes 

borne, 
The  happiest  song1  that  e'er  was  heard,  Here  goes,  here 

goes  the  corn  ! 

When  frost  has  bit  the  hickory  leaf,  and  the  whippoor- 

will  is  gone, 
And  possum  he  is  good  and  fat,  'tis  then  you  hear  the 

horn. 
Oh  !  happy  sound,  that  tolls  of  fun  and  autumn's  falling 

leaf, 
And  eating  possum — gravy  comes  a-squashing  through 

the  teeth. 

Chorus.  Then  sing  aloud,  &,c. 

When  massa  gives  the  husking  match — ah !  then's  the 

time  for  fun, 
And  the  corn  all  is  put  away,  'tis  then  the  sport  is  just 

begun ; 
With   a  glass  of  grog,  and  supper  too,  each  darkey 

shouts  for  joy, 
And  every  darkey  tries  to  show  which  is  the  smartest 

boy. 

Chorus. 
Then  sing,  here  goes :  and  shout,  here  goes ;  ana  sing, 

here  goes  the  corn,  &c. 

The   fiddle   in  the  barn  is  heard,   which   makes   the 

darkies  dance, 
And  cut  more  science  pigeon-wings  than  e'er  was  done 

in  France. 


44  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

We  dance  all  night  till  break  of  day,  and  then  lo  home 

we  go, 
And  get  a  little  sleep,  and  then  to  work  we  go,  you 

know. 

Chorus. 
We  work,  here  goes;  we  sing,  here  goes;  we  shout, 

here  goes  the  corn,  &c. 


Poor  Lizzie  Lee. 

In  Tennessee,  long  time  ago, 

Down  by  the  river  side, 
This  darkey  played  the  old  banjo, 

And  sweetly  sung  his  bride. 
With  my  dear  Lizzie  I  was  glad, 

Her  voice  sweet  music  made, 
But  now  poor  darkey's  lone  and  sad, 

For  Lizzie's  in  the  grave  ! 
Chorus.  They  laid  her  in  the  dark,  cold  ground, 

Her  life  they  could  not  save, 
Arid  this  old  man's  gray  hairs  go  down 
With  sorrow  to  the  grave ! 

Before  she  died,  she  said  to  me, 

"  Dear  Sambo,  when  I'm  dead, 
I  know  you'll  mourn  for  Lizzie  Lee, 

And  many  tears  you'll  shed  ; 
But  do  not  grieve  for  me,  I  pray, 

I  shall  be  happier  far, 
In  that  sweet  land  that's  far  away, 

Beyond  the  twinkling  star !" 
Chorus.  They  laid  her  in  the  dark,  cold  ground,  &c. 

She's  in  the  grave  so  dark  and  low, 

Close  by  the  willow  tree, 
And  through  the  boughs  the  soft  winds  blow, 

And  mourn  for  Lizzie  Lee  ! 
But  her  sweet  spirit  soared  away, 

To  heavenly  mansions  fair, 
And  now  I  hope  for  that  bright  day 

When  I  shall  meet  her  there  ! 
Chorus.  They  laid  her  in  the  dark,  cold  ground,  &c- 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  45 


Old  Sambo's  Lament. 

No  more  this  old  darkey  will  hoe  the  corn, 
Or  rise  with  the  lark  in  the  early  morn, 
When  o'er  the  plantation  old  massa's  horn 

Calls  me  to  till  the  soil. 

They  were  happy  days,  but  they'll  come  no  more, 
For  old  Sambo's  journey  is  almost  o'er, 
And  soon  he  will  be  on  that  happy  shore 

Where  darkies  do  not  toil. 
Then  hush  all  your  sighs, 
That  this  darkey  dies, 
And  goes  to  his  home  'way  up  in  the  skies ; 

For  he'll  work  no  more 

On  that  blissful  shore, 
Where  care  and  trouble  are  forever  o'er. 

No  more  will  I  hear  the  old  tambo  ring1, 
Or  hear  the  darkey  lads  and  lasses  sing 
The  plantation  songs  that  round  my  memory  cling", 

Now  that  I  am  dying. 
They  do  not  know  old  Sambo  is  weeping, 
And  that  in  the  grave  he  will  soon  be  sleeping, 
Where  the  woodbine  round  the  tree  is  creeping, 

And  the  night-wind  sighing. 
Let  them  sing  and  play 
'Till  the  break  of  day, 
Then  old  Sambo's  spirit  will  be  far  away, 

And  no  more  will  he 

Join  their  merry  glee, 
But  calmly  sleep  'neath  the  magnolia  tree. 


List  Thee,  My  Dinah. 

The  mantle  of  night  has  spread  o'er  the  earth, 
And  the  stars  shine  with  brightness  above, 

And  the  pale  moon  has  fully  shed  forth 
Her  silvery  form  to  hallow  our  love. 


46  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  Then  list  thee,  my  Dinah,  list  thee,  my  dear 
'Tis  thy  lover  who  calls,  wake,  oh !  wake ; 
Thy  presence  will  nourish  the  love  I  bear — 
Oh  !  wake,  dearest,  wake,  oh  !  wake. 

Oh !  let  my  sigh  reach  the  spot  where  you  are, 

My  misery  of  heart  'twill  relieve ; 
Come,  bless  me,  my  Dinah,  where'er  you  are, 

For  without  thee  I'll  sink  in  the  grave. 
Chorus.  Then  list  thee,  &c. 

Wake,  dearest,  wake,  this  darkness  shall  brighten 
And  in  bliss  all  our  fortunes  will  end, 

And  the  joy  of  my  heart  shall  betoken 

How  resistless  is  love  to  the  end. 
Chorus.  Then  list  thee,  &c. 


Mary  Dean. 

There  was  a  time,  long,  long  ago, 

When  life  and  hope  were  young, 
And  happiness,  like  music's  flow, 
Dwelt  trembling  on  the  tongue. 
I  loved,  and  was  beloved  by  one 

Whose  like  was  never  seen, 
And  would  that  fate  had  justice  done 

To  my  poor  Mary  Dean. 
Chorus.  This  heart  is  sad,  which  did  adore 

That  lovely  beauteous  queen  ; 
I  would  that  I  could  see  once  more, 
My  poor,  lost  Mary  Dean. 

Oh  !  she  was  good  and  kind  of  heart, 

And  very  fair  to  see, 
And  through  keen  sorrow  bore  her  part, 

And  bore  it  cheerfully. 
Go  search  the  world  where'er  you  will, 

Her  equal  ne'er  was  seen  ; 
I  thought  so  then,  I  think  so  still, 

Of  my  lost  Mary  Dean. 
Chorus.  This  heart  is  sad,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  47 

But,  ah  !  how  swift  those  happy  hours, 

Those  sunny  days,  flew  by  ! 
Like  summer's  gay,  but  short  Jived  flowers, 

They  blossom  but  to  die. 
For  on  a  winter's  hapless  day 

Death's  shadow  pass'd  between 
Our  love,  and  from  me  snatched  away 

My  darling  Mary  Dean. 

CI>oms.  This  heart  is  sad,  &c. 


Full  marfy  a  year  hath  passed  since  then, 

And  many  a  bitter  tear 
Hath  fallen  secretly  and  fast, 

For  her  who  was  so  dear ; 
But  one  sole  joy  is  left  me  yet, 

For  in  a  clime  serene, 
Where  nought  is  mortal,  I  shall  see 

Again  my  Mary  Dean. 

Cliorus.  Then,  fare  thee  well,  why  grieve  so  sore 

For  that  dear  beauteous  queen — 
We  soon  shall  meet  to  part  no  more, 
Oh  !  lovely  Mary  Dean. 


The  Old  Banjo 

I  long  for  Saturday  night  to  come, 

To  my  wife's  house  I  will  go, 
And  there  within  my  happy  home 

I'll  play  the  old  banjo. 
When  all  the  day  I  plant  the  corn 

And  hill  up  many  a  row, 
I'm  thinking  of  the  evening-horn 

That  brings  the  old  banjo. 

Chorus.  The  old  banjo,  the  old  banjo — 
The  sweetest  music  in  the  world 
Is  the  old  banjo. 

5 


48  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

The  pine-knot  blazing-  in  the  fire 

Will  make  a  monstrous  glow, 
And  then  this  darkey  most  desire 

To  pick  on  the  old  banjo. 
The  white  folks  their  piano  stop 

And  to  my  cabin  go, 
To  see  the  picaninnys  hop, 

And  hear,  the  old  banjo. 
Chorus.  The  old  banjo,  &c. 

When  all  the  world  is  going  wrong 

And  spirits  mighty  low, 
I  almost  wish  I  never  was  born 

To  play  on  the  old  banjo. 
But  all  these  troubles  when  I  play 

Will  fly  like  melted  snow — 
And  then  I  sit  the  live-long  day, 

And  pick  on  my  old  banjo. 
Chorus.  The  old  banjo,  &c. 


Susey  Saul. 

When  I  was  young,  not  long  ago, 

In  Maryland  I  did  dwell; 
'Twas  there  I  loved  a  yellow  girl — 

Oh  !   wasn't  she  a  belle  ! 
Her  form  was  round,  not  very  tall 

And  curly  was  her  hair; 
The  darkies  said  my  Susey  was 

The  fuirest  of  the  fair. 

Chorus.  Then  if  you  see  my  Susey  dear, 

Speak  kindly  to  her  all ; 
Tell  her  the  last  words  that  I  spoke, 
Were,  My  dearest  Susey  Saul. 

I  took  my  love  to  a  ball  one  night, 

'Twas  early  in  the  fall, 
And  'fore  three  weeks  had  past  away, 

I  married  Susey  Saul. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  49 

In  a  cot  we  lived  together, 

Down  by  the  river  side  ; 
How  happy  was  this  darkey  then 

With  my  lovely  yellow  bride. 

Chorus.  Then  if  you  see  my  Susey  dear,  &c. 

While  working  in  the  field  one  day, 

Near  the  tree  that  grows  so  tall, 
Old  Massa  said  he  was  going  to  sell 

My  lovely  Susey  Saul. 
In  vain  I  pleaded  for  my  wife, 

That  we  might  ne'er  part; 
But  cruelly  he  said,  "No!" 

It  almost  broke  my  heart. 

Chorus.  Then  if  you  see  rny  Susey  dear,  &e. 

I  have  nothing  left  to  live  for  now, 

My  wife  I'll  see  no  more, 
For  she  died  broken-hearted 

In  the  streets  of  Baltimore. 
And  when  I'm  dead  and  buried, 

Beneath  the  old  stone  wall, 
Upon  a  slab  these  words  you'll  see, 

"  He  died  for  Susey  Saul." 

Chorus.  Then  if  you  see  rny  Susey  dear,  &c. 


My  Lovely  Kate. 

'Twas  when  I  lived,  some  years  ago, 

In  old  Kentucky  Stute, 
That  first  I  saw  that  lovely  girl, 

My  own,  my  darling  Kate. 
We  worked  together  on  the  farm, 

And  led  a  happy  life, 
And  soon  we  loved  each  other  so, 

I  took  her  for  my  wife. 


oO  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  But  now  my  heart  is  aching-, 

As  the  story  I  relate, 
And  that  heart  with  grief  is  breaking, 
For  I  lost  my  lovely  Kate. 


Our  Massa  he  was  kind  and  good, 

And  all  the  darkies  tried 
To  please  him  every  way  they  could ; 

But  soon,  alas  !  he  died. 
Another  white  man  took  the  farm, 

Harsh,  cruel,  and  unkind  ; 
And  I  was  sold,  down  South  to  go, 

And  leave  poor  Kate  behind. 

Chorus.  But  now  my  heart  is  aching,  &c. 


Our  parting  words  were  very  sad, 

And,  oh  !  what  anguish  tore 
My  bosom,  at  the  thought  that  come, 

I'd  never  see  her  more. 
She  promised  to  be  ever  true, 

Whate'er  her  fate  might  be, 
And  ne'er  forget  the  vows  she'd  made 

To  love  no  one  but  me. 

Chorus.  But  now  my  heart  is  aching,  &c. 


And  now  I'm  left  to  live  alone, 

And  mourn  my  lovely  Kate ; 
Oh  !  how  I  wish  we'd  never  met 

In  old  Kentucky  State. 
But  soon,  I  know,  I'll  follow  her, 

And  my  parting  breath  shall  tell, 
That,  in  the  grave  I'd  wish  to  lie 

With  her  I  loved  so  well. 

Chorus.  Oh !  now  my  heart  is  aching,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  51 


Poor  Juba. 

Chorus. 

Strike  up  the  banjo,  sing-  a  merry  song — 
Strike  up  the  banjo,  strike  it  very  strong; 
The  moon  is  shining  bright,  boys,  the  winds  have  gone 

to  rest — 
Sing  with  all  your  might,  boys,  sing  your  very  best. 

Poor  Juba  sits  beneath  the  tree, 

Alone — beside  the  well ; 
For  death  has  killed  his  Emma  Lee, 

The  dark  Kentucky  belle. 

Chorus.  Handsome,  charming,  lovely  belle, 

Death  ne'er  struck  a  fairer  blossom — 
Juba  has  no  tongue  to  tell 

Half  the  grief  that  rends  his  bosom. 

Ten  thousand  stars  are  shining  bright, 

The  flowers  kiss  the  breeze, 
But  Juba's  soul  is  dark  to-night, 

No  starlight  Juba  sees. 

Chorus.  Handsome,  charming,  lovely  belle,  &c. 


Hard  by,  the  little  silvery  stream 

Runs,  singing  on  its  way, 
But  Juba  sits,  as  in  a  dream  ; 

His  thoughts  are  far  away. 

Chorus.  Handsome,  charming,  lovely  belle,  &c. 

Then  gently,  gently,  darkies,  sing, 

And  sad  the  air  shall  be, 
For  like  a  bird,  with  wandering  wing1, 

Sits  Juba — 'neath  the  tree. 

Chorus.  Handsome,  charming,  lovely  belle,  &,c. 


52  CHRISTV'S    PLANTATION    MELODIES. 


i  Flora  May. 

I  often  think  of  my  Southern  home, 

Of  its  genial  clirne  so  gay, 
And  think  it  is  strange  I  now  do  roam, 

Afar  from  my  Flora  May. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  I'll  return — 

I'll  return  to  my  Flora  May ; 
I'll  return,  I'll  return 

To  where  my  heart  once  more'll  be  gay 

Daily  I  think  of  lovely  Pedee, 
On  whose  banks  I  often  have  sat; 

Then  I  feel  that  I'm  not  so  free, 

With  my  head  in  the  freeman's  hat. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  &c. 

Nightly  I  dream  of  the  tamborine  dance, 
Of  the  step  of  dear  Flora  May, 

And  then  when  I  awake  from  the  trance, 

Sadness  round  my  heart  'gin  to  play. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  &c. 

I  often  think  of  the  cotton-fields, 

With  Flora  at  work  by  my  side, 
And  then  I  think  another  one  kneels, 

Asking  her  to  become  his  bride. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  &c. 

There  is  no  bite  in  the  Southern  breeze — 
No  cheek  spread  o'er  with  hectic  glow; 

And  if  I  stay  here,  my  life  will  freeze — 

So  back  to  the  Pedee  I'll  go. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  &c. 

Now  I'll  return  to  the  Southern  land, 
Ne'er  again  from  it  I'll  stray, 

And  once  more  with  joy,  my  heart'll  expand 

In  the  arms  of  sweet  Flora  May. 
Chorus.  I'll  return,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES  53 


Boston  Kate. 

I  ve    been   through  the  United  States,  'way  down  *o 

Baltimore ; 

I've  been  to  Massachusetts — Cape  Cod  along  the  shore  ; 
Of  all  the  gals  I  ever  saw,  in  city  or  in  State, 
There's  none  I  ever  saw  to  match  along-  with  Boston 

Kate. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Kate,  rny  charming  Kate, 

My  love  is  past  expressing ; 
Of  all  the  gals  I  ever  saw, 
You^are  the  greatest  blessing. 


I've  seen  the  black  gal  of  the  North,  the  Creole  of  the 

South ; 
I've  seen  the  gals  of  Maryland  that  are  noted  for  their 

mouth — 
To  get  myself  in  Hymen's  bands  has  never  been  my 

fate, 
I'm  waiting  for  a  chance  to  sling  myself  to  Boston 

Kate. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Kate,  my  charming  Kate,  &c. 


Oh !    when   I   caw  my  Katy,  this   darkey  throwed  a 

sigh, 
But  when  she  'spressed  her  feelings,  my  tears  they 

soon  did  dry; 
She  told  me  that  she  loved  me,  but  that  I'd  have  to 

wait, 
Before    I    could    get    married    to    my   sweet    Boston 

Kate. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Kate,  my  charming  Kate, 

I  love  you  to  distraction, 

But  now  you  are  my  own  wife, 

I  feel  much  gratifaction. 


54  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 


The  Joys  of  July  Four. 

Hark  !  hark-ye  !  along-  our  Columbian  shore, 
The  joy-bells  all  ringing — 'tis  July  four  ; 
Glad  hearts  are  cheering1,  amid  the  cannon's  roar, 
To  our  glo-glorious  Union,  for  ever-evermore. 

Chorus.  For  'twas  won  by  the  brave, 
Who,  tho'  now  in  the  grave, 
Ever  live  in  our  hearts,  in  our  joys,  in  our  songs. 

Joy  beams  on  the  earth  now,  joy  beams  in  the  air, 
Like  spirits  of  heroes,  descended  to  share 
At  this  feast  to  our  birthright ;  more  love  to  inspire 
For  our  glo-glorious  Union,  all  true  hearts  desire. 

Chorus.  For  'twas  won  by  the  brave,  &c. 

The  bright  red  of  our  colours  is  streaming  to-day, 
As  freely  stream'd  forth  in  the  battle's  affray 
The  blood  of  our  fathers,  on  hill-side  and  plain, 
For  our  glo-glorious  Union,  again  and  again. 

Chorus.  For  'twas  won  by  the  brave,  &c. 

All  honour  to  our  banner,  by  land  and  by  sea, 
The  hope  o'  the  oppressed,  the  cheer  o'  the  free — 
Sing,  Our  banner's  fair  stars,  "  lucky  stars,"  ever  they 
To  our  glo-glorious  Union,  from  this  natal  day. 

Chorus.  For  'twas  won  by  the  brave,  &c. 


Sally  Gates. 

As  all  the  darkeys  they  have  sung  about  their  girls  of 

late, 

I  think  that  I  will  sing  to  you  about  my  Sally  Gates. 
Her  eyes,  they  were  so  very  bright ;  her  cheeks,  they 

were  so  brown ; 
She  is  the  greatest  yaller  girl  that  lives  in  this  here 

town. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  55 

Chorus. 

Oh  !  Sally,  oh  !  Sally,  oh  !   charming  Sally  Gates, 
No  other  girl  can  match  with  you,  in  these  United 

States. 

We  rise  in  the  morning  before  the  break  of  day, 
And  travel  to  the  cottton-fields,  though  many  a  mile 

away; 
And  happy  passed  the  pleasant  time  with  Sally  by  my 

side, 
And  there  she  told  me  she  would  be  none  other  than 

my  bride. 
Chorus.  Oh  !  Sally,  &c. 

But  every  pleasure  has  a  pain,  I've  heard  the  white 

folks  say ; 
My  Sally  met  a  sudden  death  down  in  the  fields  one 

day. 

As  I  to  her  was  talking  love,  as  she  sat  by  my  side, 
A  black  snake  bit  her  on  the  foot — she  gave  a  grin  mid 

died. 
Chorus.  Oh  !  Sally,  &c. 

Old  Massa  he  felt  very  bad  when  he  saw  that  she  was 

dead; 
With    essence    of  sweet    peppermint,  he    rubbed    her 

woolly  head ; 
But  all  his  trouble  was  no  use,  'twas  ordered  by  the 

Fates, 
That  black  snake  he  should  be  the  death    of  lovely 

Sally  Gates. 
Chorus.  Oh  !  Sally,  &c. 


Serephina  Tell. 

Oh  !  darkies,  listen  unto  me,  I'll  tell  you  what  befel 
A  very  fair  young  coloured  girl,  named  Serephina  Tell. 
She  was  so  sweet  and  fancy,  her  eyes  they  were  so 

bright, 
You'd  think  she  was  the  new  full  moon,  when   she 

walked  out  at  night. 


56  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Chorus.  Oh!  Sercphina  Tell,  oh  !  Serephina  Tell, 
You  are  the  sweetest  coloured  girl 
That  in  this  town  does  dwell. 

I  took  her  to  a  ball  one  night ;  she  was  the  raging  bello 
And  all  the  darkies  fell  in  love  with  Serephina  Tell. 
She  danced  with  so  much  grace  and  ease,  and  turned 

upon  her  heel, 
One  darkey  laughed  himself  to  death,  to  see  her  dance 

a  reel. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Serephina  Tell,  &c. 

I  danced  with  her  till  morning  light — I  saw  its  flashing 

beam, 

When  she  fell  fainting  in  my  arms,  my  lovely  Serephine  ; 
I  asked  her  if  I'd  see  her  home — her  eyes  upon  me  fell ; 
'jhe  said,  Dear  Sam,  of  course  you  can  !  sweet  Serephina 

Tell. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Serephina  Tell,  &c. 

I  took  her  home  that  very  night ;  she  never  more  arose, 
But  down  into  the  cotton-field  her  body  does  repose ; 
And    now,  white   folks,  my  story's   done,   I  hope   it's 

pleased  you  well, 

For  I  shall  never,  never  see,  my  Serephina  Tell. 
Chorus.  Oh  !  Serephina  Tell,  &c. 


The  Boot-black's  Soliloquy. 

Dey  may  talk  of  "  benefactors,"  but  dis  darkey  t'inks 

for  sartin 
Dat  de  greatest  friend  he  eber  had,  was  Massa  Day 

and  Martin ; 
He's    de    most    enlightened    gemman,  in    de    blackin 

polish  line, 
For  if  de  darkey's  brush  do.n't  break,  de  boot  is  bound 

to  shine. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  57 

Dis  way  ob  brushin'  on  through  life  is  radder  funny, 
But  neber  mind  !   I'll  go  it,  till  I  gets  a  little  money  ; 
And  marry  Dinah  Brown,  one  of  nater's  culler'd  wixins; 
Oh,  Moses  !  can't  she  make  clam  broff,  and  all  de  little 
fixiris  ! 

We'll  hab  a  little  cottage,  at  the  foot  of  Can  a]  Street, 
All  fitted  up  with  second-handed  furniture  complete  ; 
And  while  Dinah  goes  out  washin',  and  cleanin'  big- 

bug  houses, 
I'll  hab  a  shop  in  Chatham  Street  for  renowatin'  trouses. 

Den    evenin's  I'll  lay  back   an'  feast  on  cheese   and 

cracker, 
An'    smoke    de    best  short  sixes,  and    chaw  the    best 

tobaker  ; 

An'  teach  the  little  darkies  idear  how  to  shoot  — 
Oh,  Lor  !  dare's  Massa  ringing,  an'  I  hasn't  done  his 

boots 


Florence  Lee. 

Oh  !  the  winter  winds  are  sighing 

Over  mount  and  valley  low, 
As  the  Old  Year  lies  a-dying 

On  his  pallid  bed  of  snow  ; 
And  I  hear  the  distant  ringing 

Of  St.  Catharine's  con  vent-  bell, 
And  the  nuns  as  they  go  singing, 

Chaunting  slowly  "  All  is  well  !" 
All  is  well  !"  I  mutter  mildly  ; 

"  All  is  well  !"  but  not  to  me  ; 
For  I  loved  thee,  oh!  too  wildly, 

Earth-lost  angel,  Florence  Lee! 

Such  a  night  of  last  December, 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year, 
Sat  we  then  beside  the  embers, 

Whispering  to  each  other  cheer. 
As  we  welcomed  the  new-comer, 

Little  thought  we  of  the  dearth 
Which  the  bright,  long-looked-for  summer 

Made  around  the  homestead  hearth  ; 


58  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Little  thought  we  that  the  roses 
Thou  wouldst  never  live  to  see ; 

For  the  cold  earth  now  reposes 
On  thy  breast,  dear  Florence  Lee ! 


Through  the  long-,  long  summer-hours 

Angel-hands,  upon  thy  grave, 
Planted  fair  and  beauteous  flowers, 

For  the  soft  south  wind  to  wave  : 
Where  the  dew-drops  of  the  even 

Sparkled  in  the  morning  sun, 
As  the  stars  in  yonder  heaven 

When  the  gaudy  day  is  done : 
But  the  winds  of  autumn  sadly 

Wailed  along  the  sunny  lea, 
Scattering  all  the  leaflets  madly 

O'er  thy  tomb,  fair  Florence  Lee ! 

Oh  !  the  winter-winds  are  sighing 

Over  mount  and  valley  low, 
As  the  Old  Year  lies  a-dying 

On  his  pallid  bed  of  snow ; 
And  I  hear  the  distant  ringing 

Of  Saint  Catherine's  convent-bell. 
And  the  nuns  as  they  go  singing, 

Chanting  slowly,  "  All  is  well !" 
•*  All  is  well !"  I  mutter  mildly  ; 

"  All  is  well !"  but  not  to  me  ; 
For  I  loved  thee,  oh  !  too  wildly, 

Love-lost  angel,  Florence  Lee  ! 


'Way  Down  in  Louisiana. 

'Way  down  in  Louisiana, 

Where  the  green  pine  grows  so  high, 
And  the  fragrant  orange-blossoms 

With  their  sweets  perfume  the  sky ; 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  59 

Where  fish  swim  in  the  river, 

And  the  'coon  sits  on  the  tree, 
And  the  lovely  Creole  darkies, 

Oh !  they  are  the  girls  for  me. 

Chorus.  And  the  lovely  Creole  darkies, 
Oh  !  they  are  the  girls  lor  me. 


There  droops  the  weeping-willow 

Where  the  rich  magnolia  grows  j 
They  have  no  winter  weather, 

Nor  any  stormy  snows ; 
But  have  cold  ice  in  summer, 

When  they  take  a  little  spree 
With  the  lubly  Creole  darkies, 

Oh !  they  are  the  girls  for  me. 

Chorus.  With  the  lovely  Creole  darkies,  &c. 


They  make  the  sweetest  sugar, 

And  they  get  the  biggest  price  ; 
With  plenty  corn  and  cotton, 

And  the  finest  kind  o'  rice. 
Then  there's  the  big  yam  'taters — 

Oh  !  massey,  how  sweet  they  be  ! 
With  the  lovely  Creole  darkies, 

Oh  !  they  are  the  girls  for  me. 

Chorus.  With  the  lovely  Creole  darkies,  &c. 


No  place  like  Louisiana, 

For  the  black  man  and  the  white  j 
They  work  hard  in  the  daytime, 

And  they  frolic  all  the  night. 
If  I  was  in  that  country, 

Oh  !  how  happy  I  would  be 
With  the  lovely  Creole  darkies. 

Oh !  they  are  the  girls  for  me. 

Chorus,  With  the  lovely  Creole  darkies,  &c. 
6 


60  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

Oh  Hail!  Darkies,  Hail! 

FROM    "ERNANI." 

Oh  hail !  darkies,  hail !  we  come 

By  water,  by  land, 

The  gay  minstrel  band, 

To  sing-  you  a  song  at  home. 

Then  blest  was  the  song, 

That  merry  old  song, 

That  gave  us  the  notion 

To  put  in  commotion 

With  music — the  world  ! 

Old  Massa  growled  like  wrath, 

And  swore  it  was  a  shame — 

Old  Missus,  on  the  hearth, 

Kicked  over  all  the  crearn  !  * 

But  as  the  old  churn  cracked, 

Our  duds  we  darkies  packed — 

Old  Massa  gave  us  money, 

And  sent  us  on  our  jtmrney ; 

Away  our  course  we  took, 

And  on  and  on  we  flew, 

'Till  all  the  darkies  knew 

'Twas  Harmony  that  spoke  ! 

Oft,  when  at  home,  on  Nature's  breast 

Soflly  and  calm  we  sunk  to  rest — 

So  soft,  the  flowers  would  scarcely  move 

As  lay  we  above  ! 

But  if  we  came  forth  singing  there, 

Welling  our  music  on  the  air, 

The  birds  hushed  singing  in  the  trees 

To  list  our  glorious  harmonies  ! 

Farewell  to  those  days  !  , 

That  peaceful  old  place 

We've  loved  well,  so  long, 

We  yield  us  to  song  ! 

Yes !  we  yield  us  to  song 

*  It  is  very  common  to  see  a  churn  standing  by  the  fire,  all 
winter  through,  among  the  people  of  the  South. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  61 

Now  madly  glad  in  varying1  glee 

From  time  to  time 

Comes  forth  the  rolling  music  free 

In  thunder  chime  ! 

And  still  we  swell,  from  hearts  so  gay, 

Our  songs  sublime  ! 


Banks  of  Susquehannah. 

On  the  banks  of  Susquehannah, 

When  the  leaves  began  to  fall, 
There  I  met  Miss  Julia  Tanner 

At  a  fancy  darkey  ball. 
Julia  was  a  charming  creature, 

Of  winning  hearts  she  had  the  knack, 
With  beauties  rare  of  form  and  feature, 

Pearly  teeth,  and  skin  so  black,  oh ! 

Chorus.  Oh  !   Miss  Julia  Tanner — 
Oh  !   Miss  Julia  Tanner, 
I  never  saw  such  a  pretty  girl 
Since  I  left  the  Susquehannah. 

On  the  banks  of  Susquehannah, 

With  the  winter's  frost  and  snow, 
Oft  would  I  and  Julia  Tanner 

Both  to  balls  and  parties  go; 
For  I  loved  the  angelic  creature, 

And  adored  her  night  and  day, 
But  de  most  distressful  feature 

Was  the  bills  I  had  to  pay,  ah  ! 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Miss  Julia  Tanner — 
Oh  !  Miss  Julia  Tanner, 
She  come  it  nicely  o'er  this  child, 
On  the  banks  of  Susquehannah. 

On  the  banks  of  Susquehannah, 

When  the  spring  was  in  its  pride, 
Then  I  ask'd  Miss  Julia  Tanner 
«       To  become  this  darkey's  bride  ; 


62  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

But  the  proud  and  haughty  creature 
Looked  with  cold  disdain  on  me, 

And  with  scorn  on  every  feature 
Quickly  answered,  No-sir-ee,  ah ! 

Chorus.  Oh  !  Miss  Julia  Tanner — 
Oh  !  Miss  Julia  Tanner ; 
I  never  saw  such  an  ugly  girl 
Since  I  left  the  Susquehannah ! 


Dinah  Green* 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  F.  D. 
Bentcen,  Baltimore. 

Oh !  Dinah  Green  is  the  girl  that  I  love, 
The  pride  of  the  town,  my  dark-eyed  dove ; 
.She's  as  graceful  and  light  as  a  kitten  at  play, 
And  dances  divinely,  the  white  folks  say. 
With  the  morning's  sun  to  the  fields  I  go, 
And  work  all  day  with  my  shovel  and  hoe ; 
But  when  he  goes  down,  with  my  tamborine, 
I'm  off  to  the  cabin  of  Dinah  Green. 

Chorus.  Oh  !  I  long  all  day  for  the  hour  to  come 
To  paddle  my  skiff  to  my  Dinah's  home ; 
For  many  a  moment  of  joy  I've  seen* 
In  the  cane-thatched  cabin  of  Dinah  Green. 


I  hear  that  old  Caesar  has  said,  that  his  son 
Is  to  marry  Miss  Dinah  as  soon  as  she's  won ; 
But  Sam,  I  am  certain,  will  never  do  that — 
His  heel  is  too  long,  and  his  nose  is  too  flat. 
He  may  woo  all  night,  he  may  woo  all  day, 
He  may  woo  till  the  wool  on  his  head  turns  grey ; 
He  may  groan  till  the  tears  from  his  eyelids  start, 
But  in  vain  he  will  knock  at  the  door  of  her  heart. 

Chorus.  Oh !  I  long  all  day,  &c. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  03 

One  morning-,  as  Dinah  lay  asleep  on  the  floor, 
A  big1  black  cat  came  up  to  the  door — 
She  smiled  in  her  sleep,  and  the  monster  pressed 
His  clay-cold  lips  to  her  beating-  breast. 
She  sprang-  to  the  door  and  tried  to  speak, 
But  we  heard  her  not,  her  voice  was  weak  ; 
And  soon  the  flash  of  her  deep,  dark  eye 
Grew  dim  and  dull,  and  we  saw  her  die. 

Chorus.  And  I  long-  no  more  for  the  hour  to  come 
To  paddle  my  skiff  to  my  Dinah's  home ; 
And  moments  of  joy  are  no  longer  seen 
In  the  cane-thatched  cabin  of  Dinah  Greea, 


Dandy  Jim's  Lament. 

I'm  sitting-  on  the  bale,  Juba, 

Where  we've  sat  the  long-  day, 
When  the  little  darkies  round  us 

Were  busy  at  their  play. 
The  cotton-plant  was  spring-ingvgreen, 

And  the  'tatoe  in  the  hill 
Shone  yellow  as  the  eyes,  love, 

Of  rny  lost  whip-poor-will. 

The  times  are  little  charig-cd,  Juba, 

And  your  Jim  is  lonely  now, 
And  he  wishes  that  the  time  was  back 

When  we  exchanged  the  vow, 
When,  blushing-,  you  stood  by  my  side, 

With  your  soft  hand  locked  in  mine, 
And  I  took  you  to  this  breast,  the  bride 

Of  Jim  of  Caroline. 

The  little  darkies,  too,  that  once 

Clung-  to  the  fond  embrace 
Of  you,  who  sleep  so  sweetly  now, 

Have  gone  to  another  place.  __ 


64  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

And  our  old  Massa,  too,  has  died ; 

They  laid  him  in  his  grave, 
And  if  in  heaven  we  meet  him,  love, 

We'll  be  no  more  his  slave. 


My  head  is  getting  gray,  Juba, 

And  this  eye  is  growing  dim ; 
My  back's  a  little  bent,  love, 

And  sharper  is  my  shin. 
For  sixty  years  have  almost  gone, 

And  I  long  for  the  sweet  time 
When  the  snow  in  the  heart  shall  come 

Of  Jim  of  Caroline. 

When  Death  has  done  his  work,  Juba, 

And  this  spirit's  took  its  flight, 
I  hope  we'll  not  be  sent,  love, 

Down  into  endless  night ; 
But  if  we  see  each  other  there, 

And  the  children,  face  to  face, 
Why,  we'll  be  happy  then,  Juba, 

In  that  sweet  time  of  grace. 


My  Valley  Home,  Good-bye. 

The  sun  from  'hind  the  hills  was  peeping-,. 

All  nature  was  so  bright  and  gay, 
The  merry  birds  were  nimbly  leaping 

With  joyous  bounds  from  tree  to  tree. 
Such  was  the  morning  that  I  parted 

From  all  on  earth  I  held  most  dear — 
My  parents,  though  near  broken-hearted, 

Would  try  my  gloomy  thoughts  to  cheer. 

Chorus.  My  valley  home,  good-bye,  good-bye, 

I'll  ever  think  of  thee — 
A  stranger  I  must  live  and  die, 
My  home  I'll  never  see. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  65 

My  valley  home,  I  loved  it  dearly, 

No  other  home  I  wish  to  see — 
Oh  !  but  to  part  from  it  did  grieve  me ; 

It  sheltered  me  in  infancy. 
My  parents  dear,  I  left  them  weeping, 

'Twas  sorrow  choked  their  last  farewell — 
Before  I  die  could  I  but  greet  them, 

Oh !  then  I  would  my  sorrow  quell. 

Chorus.  My  valley  home,  &c. 

Oft  in  my  dreams  I  see  my  mother, 

And  trace  the  tear-drop  down  her  cheek 
Methinks  she  says,  My  child,  come  hither ; 

Oh  !  where  shall  I  my  lost  one  seek ! 
Farewell !  my  home,  the  vision's  fleeting, 

A  stranger  now  I'm  forced  to  roam ; 
When  life  is  o'er,  above  I'll  meet  them, 

Those  dear  ones  of  my  valley  home. 

Choi'us.  My  valley  home,  &c. 


We  are  Coming,  Sister  Mary. 

Founded  on  a  superstition  of  a  portion  of  the  coloured  race, 
that  death  is  forewarned  in  "  Dream  Song." 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  firth, 
Pond  &  Co.,  J^ew  York. 

On  a  stormy  night  in  Winter, 

When  the  winds  blew  cold  and  wet, 
I  heard  some  strains  of  music 

That  I  never  can  forget. 
I  was  sleeping  in  the  cabin 

Where  lived  Mary,  fair  and  young, 
When  a  light  shone  in  the  window, 

And  a  band  of  singers  sung : — 

Chorus.  We  are  coming,  sister  Mary, 

We  are  coming  bye-and-bye  ; 
Be  you  ready,  sister  Mary, 
For  the  time  is  drawing  nigh. 


DO  CHRISTY  S    PLANTATION    MELODIES* 

I  tried  to  call  my  Mary, 

But  my  tongue  would  not  obey 
Till  the  song-  so  strange  had  ended, 

And  the  singers  flown  away. 
Then  I  woke  her  from  her  slumber, 

And  told  her  evVy  thing — 
But  I  could  riot  guess  the  meaning 

Of  the  song  I  heard  them  sing. 

Chorus.  We  are  coming,  &c. 

When  the  next  night  came,  I  heard  them, 

And  the  third  night  too  they  sung, 
While  I  sat  beside  the  pillow 

Of  my  Mary  fair  and  young. 
As  I  watched  I  heard  a  rustling, 

Like  the  rustling  of  a  wing; 
And  beside  my  Mary's  pillow, 

Very  soon  I  heard  them  sing : — 

Chorus.  We  are  coming,  &c. 

Then  again  I  called  my  Mary, 

But  my  sorrow  was  complete, 
For  I  found  her  heart  of  kindness 

Had  forever  ceased  to  beat ; 
And  I  now  am  very  lonely, 

From  Summer  round  to  Spring, 
And  I  oft,  in  midnight  slumber, 

Seem  to  hear  the  same  ones'  sing : — 

Cltorus.  We  are  coming,  &c. 


Old  Times  Come  Again. 

Music,  with  Piano  Forte  accompaniment,  published  by  Hall 
&  Son,  New  York. 

Old  times,  old  times,  those  good  old  times! 

When  I  was  young  and  free, 
I  heard  the  tuneful  village  chimes 

Down  by  the  willow-tree. 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  67 

My  Corrie  dear,  beside  me, 

With  her  hand  clasped  in  mine, 
A  heart  at  rest  within  my  breast, 

In  boyhood's  happy  prime. 

Chorus.  Sing !  sing- !  and  drown  all  grief  and  pain, 
For  we  will  never,  never  see 
Such  good  old  times  again  !  , 

And  sure  my  home  is  nothing  changed ; 

The  birds  are  singing  still, 
The  flowers  are  springing  where  we  ranged 

Down  by  the  old  corn-mill. 
The  willows  waving  o'er  me, 

Still  sweetly  shade  my  frame; 
But  sleeping  is  my  Corrie, 

And  I  am  not  the  same. 

Chorus.  Sing !  sing !  &e. 

Oh  !  come  again,  ye  good  old  times, 

Sweet,  sunny,  fresh  and  clear ; 
And  let  me  hear  those  village  chimes, 

And  see  my  Corrie  dear. 
If  I  could  cry  forever, 

My  tears  would  be  in  vain, 
My  heart  from  hope  must  sever ; — 

They'll  never  come  again  I 

Chorus.  Sing !  sing !  &c. 


Jim  Brown's  Address  to  his  Sogers. 

FELLER-CITIZENS  AND  BRUDDER  SOGERS  ! — 

I  hab  de  super  infilicity  ob  undressing  a  few 
words  ob  millumtary  tictacs  to  your  magnanimously 
insignificant  and  superbly  extinguished  corpse. 

Brudder  sogers !  from  dem  days  of  de  future  dark 
ages,  wat  has  passed  down  de  ascending  stream  ob 
jieber-to-be-forgotteri  oblibium,  to  de  long-past  mo- 


68  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

ments  ob  de  present  time,  de  darkies,  from  whom  dem 
coming-  periods  took  their  names,  was,  as  your  illiterated 
mental  compa cities  will  clearly  obliterate  de  origin,  and 
confounders  ob  dat  perceptible  and  distinctly  invisible 
human  greatness,  which — to  use  a  well-known  pane- 
legoloram  —  is  as  clear  and  transparent  to  de  opake 
vision,  as  a  pellucid  thousand  ob  de  werry  thickest  kind 

ob  hard-baked  bricks 

^     Pompey.   Dat's  berry  good — fust-rate  ! 

Julius.  Yes;  I  like  dem» bricks;  dey  hits  me  right 
in  de  eye,  and  I  sees  clearly  t'rough  dat  portion  ob  de 
argument — go  on,  General  Brown. 

Brown.  Brudder  sogers,  I  am 

Julius.  Dat's  fust-rate — dat's  it,  hurrah  ! 

Brown.  What  do  you  applause  for  dere  ?  Jee  wait 
till  I  git  t'rough  ! 

Pampey.  Hurry  up  de  cakes  ! 

Julius.  Go  ahead;  General ! 

Brown.  Brudder  sogers,  dere  arn  no  *casion  for  me 
to  consummate  your  misspent  time,  by  calling  on  you 
for  your  imbecile  attention  ! 

Julius.  Dat's  a  fae* ! 

Brown.  Yes,  it  am — as  de  great  poet  so  sublimely 
and  ridiculously  expresses  it — 

Brebity  am  de  sole  ob  wit, 

And  tedioushess  am  de  ole  heel-taps 

An'  busted  upper-ledders — 

derefore,  I  will  be  brief. 

Julius.  Go  on,  I'se  done  ! 

Brown.  Has  you — den  jes  close  dat  coal-mine  wat's 
excavated  in  your  head,  dat  you  call  a  mouf,  till  I'm 
done,  too ! 

Julius.  Go  on,  General,  I'se  satisfied  wid  your 
appology. 

Brown.  Fellow-sogers — let  me  compress  upon  your 
detrimental  incapacities,  de  justly  celebrated  speech  ob 
Captain  Julicus  Caesar,  wot  he  made  to  Ensighn-Gene- 
/al  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  when  be  succombed  to,  and 
vanquished  Pompey  de  Great  at  de  immemorial  Battle 
ob  de  Nile — which,  you  know,  gem'en  and  scholars. 
was  fought  among  dem  wonders  ob  de  vegetable  world 


CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES.  69 

— de  "  Egyptian  Pyramids,"  at  de  summit  ob  de  walley 
ol>  de  inexcusable  Alps — dese  was  dem  berry  dientical 
words — "  It  will  neber  do  to  gib  it  up  so,  Mr.  Brown !" 

Sobers.  Hurrah  ! 

Julius.   What  made  him  call  Napoleon  Mr.  Brown? 

Brown.  'Case,  'cordin'  to  de  best  transplanters  ob  de 
Hitalian,  Mr.  Brown  is  short  for  Bonaparte. 

Julius.  Yes,  yes,  dat's  a  fact — 

Brown.  Brudder  sogers —  to  perpetrate  de  words  ob 
Sergeant  Rolla — my  brave  associates — partners  in  my 
songs,  my  banjo  and  my  bones  —  can  Jirn  Brown's 
words  add  wigor  to  de  energies  which  surprise  your 
hearts  ? 

All.  No !  Dem  oder  chaps  follow  (when  dey  don't 
absquatulate)  a  leader  what  dey  doesn't  like — we  serbe 
a  general  we  adore.  Tell  Santa  Anna  this,  and  tell 
him  too,  we  want  no  change  *  from  him,'  (case  if  we 
did,  he  ain't  got  none  to  gib  us) — so  we  will  call  de  roll, 
and  pat  it  down  to  his  account. 

Brown  sings : — 

I  am  a  scienced  darkie,  my  name's  Jim  Brown, 
I  used  to  play  de  banjo  all  around  de  town. 
I  heard  de  foe  was  sassy,  and  went  to  lend  a  hand, 
And  instead  of  rnusicianers,  I  led  a  fighting  band. 
I  heard  de  bullets  whistle,  so  I  cut  de  gunner  down, 
And  all   de  bovs  dey  hollered  out,  "Dat  chap's  done 
Brown !" 

I  fought  at  Buena  Vista,  on  the  well-remembered  day, 
When  Columbia  lost  her  noble  son,  the  daring  Colonel 

Clay. 
With  glory  crowned,  he  nobly  died,  and  gallantly  he 

fell; 
While  few  of  dose  who  butchered  him,  were  left  the 

tale  to  tell — 

A  bullet  from  a  steady  aim,  laid  half  a  dozen  down, 
And   p'raps    dat   musket   wasn't   owned    by  ole   Jim 

Brown. 

I  was  down  to  Sarah  Gordo,  I  shan't  forget  de  day — 
Twas  de  one  when  Santa  Anna,  like  a  hero,  run  away 


70  CHRISTY'S  PLANTATION  MELODIES. 

He  went  at  such  a  rate,  for  fear  de  boys  should  find 

him, 
That  he  left  his  dinner,  papers,  and  his  wooden-leg 

behind  him. 

If  I  had  caught  de  gem'an,  I  guess  I'd  had  some  fun ; 
I'd  had  a  piece  ob  paper  signed,  ole  Bern,  Bam,  Bum. 


Dere's  music  in  de  horse-shoe,  an7  in  de  tin  pan — 

Music  in  dese  darkies  which  you  must  understand  j 

Dere's  music  in  de  pot,  music  in  de  kettle, 

Music  in  de  knife  and  fork,  when  you  eat  your  wietual  j 

Music  in  de  corn-cob  biling  on  de  fire, 

Music  in  dis  darkey — ole  Virginny  nebber  tire  I 


THE     END, 


V 


CONTENTS. 


X  Old  Folks  at  Home Page    7 

Oh  !  Boys,  carry  me  'long 8 

/  Nelly  Ely 10 

Way  down  in  Ca-i-ro 11 

Dolcy  Jones 12 

Ring,  ring  cle  Banjo 13 

My  Broddcr  Gum 14 

Camptown  Races,  or,  Gwine  to  run  all  Night 15 

De  Days  when  I  was  young 17 

Greeting  to  a  Merry  Key — not  Jenny  Lind's  18 

Old  Aunty  Brown 19 

Medley  Song 20 

Do  last  ob  de  Cabbages 21 

Julius  from  Kentucky 22 

Rosa  Bell / .  24 

Parody — "  On  Old  Long  Island's  sea-girt  Shore" 24 

Jane  Monroe 26 

Nelly  was  a  Lady 26 

Julius'  Bride 28 

Ginger^  Wedding 29 

Mary  Blane 30 

Witching  Dinah  Crow  31 

Nancy  Tease 32 

Parody  on  "The  Phantom  Chorus" 33 

FUHi-Hi,  the  Black  Shaker's  Song 34 

Katy  Dean 35 

Uncle  Ned 36 

Old  Uncle  Edward 37 

Gone  to  Alabama 38 

Emma  Snow 4G 

(3  inn-Tree  Canoe, 41 

The  Virginia  Rose-Bud;  or,  The  Lost  Child 42 

1*  (v) 


VI  CONTENTS. 

Emma  Dale *....  43 

Stop  dat  Knocking 44 

Bowery  Gals  45 

The  Haunted  Well 46 

We'll  have  a  little  Dance  to-night,  Boys  48 

I  wish  I  was  in  Ole  Virginny  49 

Rosa  Dear 50 

I'm  off  for  Charleston 51 

Poor  Aunt  Dinah 52 

Come  to  de  Ole  Gum-Tree 54 

Oh  Come,  Darkies,  Come 55 

Masea  sound  is  Sleeping 55 

Walk  in  the  Parlour 56 

Wake  up,  Mose  !  the  Engine's  Coming •  58 

Dolly  Day 59 

Angelina  Baker < 60 

Melinda  May 62 

Kate  Lorraine 63 

She  Sleeps  in  the  Grave 64 

The  Darkey's  Serenade 65 

Joe  ob  Tennessee 65 

Julia  Green 67 

Lynchburg  Town 68 

Negro's  Seven  Ages — not  Shakspeare's 69 


FISHER  &  BROTHER 

Have  the  sole  and  exclusive  right  to  publish,  apart  from 
the  music,  the  words  of  the  following  songs  :— 

Old  Folks  at  home. 

Oh !  Boys,  carry  me  'long. 

Nelly  Ely. 

Way  Down  in  Ca-i-ro. 

Dolcy  Jones. 

King,  Ring  de  Banjo. 

My  Brodder  Gum. 


CONTENTS 

OF 

CHRISTY'S   PLANTATION  MELODIES. 
(No.  2.) 


Eulalie PAGE  7 

Massa's  in  the  Cold  Ground 8 

Ella  Ree 9 

I'll  throw  Myself  away 10 

The  Old  Folks  are  gone 11 

What  shall  this  Darkey  do? 12 

Oh  !   Lemuel ! 14. 

Hither  we  come 15 

Farewell,  My  Lilly  Dear..... 16 

Ding,  Dong!   or,  The  Darkies'  Wedding 17 

Julius's  Trip  to  the  World's  Fair..... 18 

Good  Old  Dinah 19 

Uncle  Tom's  Gone  to  Rest 20 

-Old  Ned 21 

The  Old  Corn  Mill 22 

Katy  Darling 23 

'Tilda  Horn 25 

Come,  Darkies,  Come 2ti 

Hush-a-bye,  Baby 27 

The  Belle  of  Winy  aw  Bay 29 

Poor  Foolish  Joe 30 

Poor  Old  Joe 82 

The  Rose  of  Baltimore 82 

The  Dark'  who  "Totes"  the  Target 34 

(5) 


6  CONTEXTS. 

«pThe  Old  Log  ITut  nt  Home , :T" 

Aunt  Dinah  Roe £3 

Night  Funeral  of  a  Slave 36 

Porapey's  Grave -i7 

Seraphina  Tell 38 

Sweep-oh  Refrain 39 

The  Darkey  Sleighing  Party 40 

Dinah's  Wedding-Day 41 

The  Darkey  Blackbe-rrying  Party ,.  42 

Uncle  Gabriel,,  the  Darkey  General 44 

Happy  are  jf^  Darkies  so  Gay 45 

Would  I  were  a  Boy  again 46 

Santee's  Rifer  Side 47 

Oh,  Dearest  Dine 48 

The  Coon-Hunter's  Bride 49 

My  Lucy  so  Fair 50 

Lizzy  Lee 51 

The  Yellow  Rose  of  Texas 62 

Sarah  Day 53 

We'll  have  a  little  Dance  To-night,  Boys 54 

Nelly  Bell 55 

Singing  Darkey  of  the  Ohio 56 

The  Old  Virginia  State 57 

Jenny  Lyle 58 

The  Girl  from  the  South 59 

Shining  Moon 60 

-The  Old  Jawbone 61 

The  Heart-broken  Darkey 62 

^  Carry  me  Back  to  Old  Virginia's  Shore 63 

Sueky  Lane 64 

Nancy  Shore 65 

Oh,  Dinah  Dear 66 

^  Old  Virginia  Never  Tire 67 

Susan  Rayne 68 

The  M.  P.'s  Musical  Invitation 69 

See,  Darkies,  See 70 


t 


CONTENTS 

OF 

CHRISTY'S   PLANTATION   MELODIES. 
(No.  3.) 


,  My  Old  Kentucky  Home,  Good-Night PAGE  5 

/Good  Old  Jeff 6 

/  Old  Dog  Tray 7 

I  Long  for  My  Home  in  Kentuck' 8 

Xily  Dale 9 

The  Other  Side  of  Jordan 10 

Etty  Way,  or  Good-bye.  Boys , 12 

Sweet  Lilia  Brown 13 

She's  Black,  But  That's  no  Matter 14 

Ho!   Ho!  for  Ginger  Bluff 14 

Will  no  Yaller  Gal  Marry  Me? 15 

Fare  You  Well! 16 

Poor  Old  Jessy 17 

Take  Me  Home 18 

Pompey's  Trip  to  New  York 19 

The  Old  Churchyard  ..  20 

Sally  Primer 21 

My  Childhood's  Happy  Home .' 22 

Emma  Gray 22 

Katy  Darling's  Farewell  to  Dermot 23 

Old  Jumb^gum,  My  Joe >..,... %....  24 

The  Fancy  Coloured^&fr  ...\%..S. .•;...**..  27 

/Wait  for  tffe  Wagon j. 29 

f    The  Yaller  GalfWJth  the  Josey  on 30 

^  -Tflfe  JfJlly  Ok^CroV..:*** .^Sta*.*. 31 


/  3S/ 

4  CONTENTS. 

.» 

The  Rose  of  Alabama 82 

Rosa  Lee,  or  Don't  be  Foolish,  Joe.^fc 80 

Our  Hut  on  the  Old  Plantation !w. 34 

The  Dandy  Broadway  Swell 35 

Dine  and  Joe 87 

Dearest  Mae *  38 

The  Old  Cottage  Clock , 39 

Coloured  Fugitive's  Lament..! 40 

Linda's  Gone  to  Baltimore 42 

Here  Goes  the  Corn 43 

Poor  Lizzie  Lee 44 

Old  Sambo's  Lament 45 

List  Thee,  My  Dinah 45 

Mary  Dean 46 

The  Old  Banjo 47 

Susey  Saul 48 

My  Lovely  Kate 49 

Poor  Juba 51 

Flora  May 52 

Boston  Kate 53 

The  Joys  of  July  Four 54 

Sally  Gates 54 

Serephena  Tell  55 

The  Boot-black's  Soliloquy 56 

Florence  Lee 57 

'Way  down  in  Louisiana 58 

Oh  hail!  Darkies,  hail!' 60 

Banks  of  Susquehannah 61 

Dinah  Green 62 

Dandy  Jim's  Lament  63 

My  Valley  Home,  Good-bye 64 

t  We  are  Coming,  Sister  Mary 65 

Old  Times  Come  again 66 

Jim  Brown's  Address  to  his  Sogers 67 


